


The Archer and The Widow

by MagentasNightmare



Category: The Walking Dead, The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms
Genre: AU, Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe, Caryl, Daryl Dixon/Carol Peletier Smut, F/M, Glenn and Maggie SMUT, No Merle Dixon in this one (just FYI cause most of my work is Merle related. lol), Old timey language, Period Piece 1700s, Period Typical - Oppression of the poor, Period Typical Attitudes, Period-Typical Sexism, Smut, This story is for entertainment/ not a history lesson! LOL, ge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-11-08 16:38:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 36,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11085627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagentasNightmare/pseuds/MagentasNightmare
Summary: Carol is trapped, living as a servant in the home of Lord Phillip Blake who is brother to the King. Her husband (Edward) was killed and left her with his debts to repay and her life is very difficult. She has some companions in the manor and works hard but she naturally longs for more, including love and freedom to love who she pleases.One day, Carol meets a man in the forest who embodies everything she is seeking and may be her savior from servitude.Along with her desire to be free, Carol becomes aware of a plot against the king and feels obligated to intervene.





	1. The Man with Cornflower Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place in 1700s England. I did research on cultural norms etc, but this is not intended as a historically accurate piece of high literature. The time period is not nailed down and if there are certain inaccuracies I am comfortable with that as this story is primarily for entertainment purposes:)  
> Some of the behavior in this story is going to be very different that today, for instance:
> 
> ~ people lived shorter lives back then (life expectancy in 1700s was only 35!!!) and so they became devoted to one another faster (hence this love story moves quickly)  
> ~ women did not have a multitude of options in those days for their own lives (yay! feminism!)  
> ~ expectations upon women were very different (specifically for Carol in this story, as she is a servant)  
> ~ I researched words that were used in the naughty writings of the time, and 'cunt' was commonly used to describe the female private bits, so I did use this word in a smut scene. If that word offends you then...don't read any further. If it was suitable for Chaucer in The Canterbury Tales & D.H. Lawrence in Lady Chatterley's Lover, then I feel just fine using the term here;)  
> ~ Also, as an homage to the time period I went a little wild with the romanticism and let it get very 'star-crossed lovers' style for a change of pace. I just thought the feel of dramatic and overly romantic love would be appropriate for the time period:)
> 
> I will post a new chapter every SATURDAY afternoon:)
> 
> This story is something very different for me and I hope you enjoy it:)  
> Thanks for reading! I always appreciate anyone willing to take their own time to read something I've written, it means the world to me:)

 

_ **The Archer & The Widow - Chapter 1**_

_ **~ The Man with Cornflower Eyes** _

 

Rain fell through the night, and Carol listened through the stone walls of her quarters because sleep rarely came easy. Though her life was non-stop work, she remained restless much of the time.

She had imagined her life becoming easier after her husband was killed fighting for the king, but Edward had debts that he left above ground when he died.

Carol had been trapped in the manor of Lord Phillip ever since the funeral and was working herself into the ground paying off his debt to the kingdom.

Almost everyone in the village owed money to Lord Phillip, his taxes were unbearable, and he added interest daily when unpaid. Edward was the type to prefer the drink to paying his bills, but she'd been pushed into the marriage in the first place by her father, another drunk who was not worth remembering. Her mother had been kind and good, but she passed away when Carol was only 14.

Now, at 24, Carol felt years older than she was. Up at dawn, her day began by making the master's bread and tending to his needs. She drew the water for washing and did all his laundry; she was even made to bathe him. She had only been there for six months, and the master was married, but it didn't stop him attempting to urge her hand beneath the bathwater. Some nights, when Carol felt especially desperate, she dreamed of killing him, but she was a God fearing woman. Deep down inside she still hoped that there could be happiness in life, maybe in the future, and that's what kept her honest.

There were other workers she shared the burden of life with, and they toiled together in equal hopelessness day and night. Lori was a widow just like her; Dale was a man who'd been born into servitude and Shane was the man who worked the fields. Together they formed a family of sorts, thrust into the same misery by happenstance and yet they found small joys here and there.

The morning after the heavy rain left the forest greener than usual and she was sent by Dale to collect herbs and berries. The mornings she was allowed to venture made her feel alive, and she cherished them.

"I'll not be long," she called from the back gate as she grabbed the largest basket they had to take along with her.

"You'll be gone for hours, child, we both know that!" Dale called back.

"I can't hide anything from you," she laughed.

"I had a daughter once myself and nothing escapes a father of girls," he winked. "Collect all that you can, child. You have the list?"

"Yes, Dale."

"And you have your blade?" he checked.

"Of course."

"Thieves in the woods would set upon a young thing like you soon as they could blink," he warned for the hundredth time. "I wish you'd let me take you."

"It's the only time I have on my own," she smiled.

"I know, but please do watch yourself."

"I promise."

With that, she set out into the woods, and within only 10 minutes the hem of her long skirts were wet from the grass. The rain of the night before was still puddled on the ground and clinging to the blades of grass and wildflowers at her feet. She smiled to herself as she walked, taking in the fresh scent that was like breathing in the night. She bent down to collect some sage for the master's poultry and sighed to herself at the idea of collecting anything at all for such a man.

She continued on her way and began to sing an old song to herself, a luxury that only solitude brought.

_**And I, upon that blessed day** _

_**within his arms should surely stay** _

_**He is but mine, and I am his** _

_**till evening time and moonlight's kiss** _

_**the man with raven hair** _

_**the man with cornflower eyes** _

_**takes my heart into battle** _

_**sheltered from stormy skies** _

Carol could sing as loudly as she wanted in the woods and she swung the basket softly as she watched for the bush with wild blueberries to come into view.

She could hear the rush of the waterfall in the distance and knew she was close, so she took the path that led closer to the falls. All along the bank of the river were lush bushes covered with clutches of the juiciest berries around. Carol would collect a handkerchief full for the master's dessert and some more for her friends back home.

When she came upon the bank, she steadily collected berries by the handful, dropping them into the basket at her feet thoughtlessly. She continued to hum the tune as she worked and tried to remember the way to the mint that Dale had mentioned earlier that morning.

Carol rarely ever encountered anyone on her walks so when she heard the bray of a horse her heart jumped, and she ducked on instinct.

A pure white horse appeared on the other side of the river, and she watched it, and it's rider from behind the bushes to be sure she wasn't in danger.

She stood gradually when she could see it was just an ordinary man stopping for a moment along his way. Carol was quite sure he couldn't see her from where she stood behind the bushes and up the bank, so she just observed him.

The man relieved himself against a tree and then stretched his arms up to the sky.

She didn't recognize the man at all and figured he must be only passing through so she moved slowly, still collecting berries and watched him some more.

The man lay a longbow from around his shoulders onto the bank and pulled his tunic over his head. She stood silently and allowed her eyes to move over his tanned skin. The man was strong, with arms like tree trunks and muscles that moved along his back as he bent down to unlace his boots. She ate a single berry and continued to watch as he dropped his trousers and kicked off his boots. Carol could feel her face begin to burn up through her neck and into her cheeks, but she couldn't turn away.

"Good Lord above," she whispered.

The man stepped carefully into the river and immediately disappeared under the water. She could see him move under the surface toward the waterfall where he stood under the spray and ran his hands over his body to clean himself.

He was stunning, and she'd never witnessed anything so forbidden. His body was nothing like her dead husband's. This man's body was strong, his manhood proud and perfect and his face was created by God's hand himself. She ran her hand up to her neck with anxious energy running through every nerve in her body.

Eventually, he swam back to the bank and took a rag from the saddlebag of his horse to dry himself. Carol hadn't thought of a man in so long that the sensation in her loins felt completely unfamiliar. Between her dead husband and the master who moved steadily closer to taking advantage, physical love was normally far from her mind.

She was still standing with blueberries in her closed hand when he looked up at her with a sly grin.

"Hello, over there!" he called. "Did you enjoy the show, lass?"

"I...no! Of course not! I'm sure I don't know what you mean!" she argued, bending down to collect her basket and get away from him as soon as she could. She spilled most of the berries in her fumbling and rushed to collect them, but her hands were shaking.

When she looked up again, he was already dressed and mounting his horse in a fit of laughter.

"You lie!" he continued.

"I do not!"

"I saw you up yonder bank, don't think I didn't."

She had nothing left to say; the man had seen her fair as day. He crossed the shallow section of the river with ease and approached her on horseback, leaving her feeling small and silly. It was evident he was Irish from his accent, and she wondered why he was in the area and who he was.

"I apologize, Sir. I meant nothing of it," she said, bowing her head and turning to leave.

"If I had minded then I wouldn't have continued, would I?"

"I suppose not."

"Well, then. No need for apology, lassy. If you should like to watch some more then I can come again tomorrow," he teased.

"Now you're being cheeky," she sighed.

"Perhaps next time I could watch you then," he grinned.

"Good Lord above! The mouth on you!" she stammered as she backed herself into the nearest tree.

Carol had been married, she was no child, but all the sex took place under cover of night, and none of it was sensual in any way. She'd heard of explicit things that certain lovers did in the bedroom, but none of these things were a part of her marriage, it had just been roughness in the dark. This stranger made her think of these sensual things, though, and she couldn't deny it. His eyes were the cornflower blue she'd sung about, and they looked right through her.

"Am I offending you? I can stop if you'd prefer it," he offered.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"Daryl Dixon, and who are you?"

"Carol."

"No surname?"

"I'm a servant in the manor of Lord Phillip, I shouldn't say too much," she shrugged.

"Well, Carol with no surname, maybe I'll see you again right here sometime, perhaps tomorrow."

"Perhaps," she nodded.

"Tell me first," he added, looking down at her purple stained hands. "Are the berries sweet?"

She could feel the heat in his stare, and she knew that this was the beginning of trouble for her.

"Yes, Sir, they're lovely and sweet," she smiled.

"I'll be sure to return to taste them then. Good day to you, Miss."

"Good day," she bowed politely before heading on to continue her work.

The man from the river with the cornflower eyes was still in her thoughts as she lay in her bed that night; Carol knew she'd be looking for any excuse to return to the river.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Embers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a closer look at the misery of Carol's life in the home of Lord Phillip and the introduction of animosity against the king. Carol is thinking constantly of her meeting with Daryl and sees him as a ray of light in the bleakness of her life. She was resigned to her lot in life until she lay eyes on him and now everything has changed.   
> Next chapter, she's gonna get herself back to the river where things escalate quickly...  
> See you next Saturday!   
> Thanks for reading:)  
> ~ thinking of posting twice a week instead of just once cause I'm impatient, lemme know if that sounds like something you'd want.  
> Love, Teagan

_ **The Archer & The Widow - Chapter 2** _

_ **~ Embers** _

 

Unfortunately, Carol had too much work to return to the river the next morning and had to tend to Lord Phillip personally, as usual. He was working in his office and had her next to him for little more than company, all morning.  She seethed inside at not being able to meet her man from the river. She thought of Daryl all day and prayed that he would return again to the river when she could get there. Carol longed to see the stranger again, even though she was not free to be with anyone. She just wanted a little light in the bleakness of her life, and he had made her feel alive. Just speaking to Daryl had been the highlight of her year and she found even that fact so sad.  

Carol made the best pie she could for Lord Phillip that evening in hopes that he'd request more berries and to her delight, he did.

“I must say, you've outdone yourself this time!” he praised.

“Thank you, Sir,” she nodded. “May I pour you your brandy?”

He always drank brandy after supper, and he nodded to her as he wiped his mouth.

“Please.”

She collected the dishes from in front of him and then his wife before returning with his drink.

“Very good,” he smiled.

“I'm going to have a smoke, my dear,” he said to his wife. “Perhaps you could meet me in the parlor in an hour?”

This was a polite way of telling his wife to leave. Mary Blake was no fool and only nodded to him before taking her leave. She'd been distant of late, and there was speculation that she was ill in some way since the doctor had been to visit more often than usual.

“Again, Carol, this pie was a cut above.”

“I'm so pleased you enjoyed it, Sir.”

“Could you also make preserves from those berries?” he asked.

“Absolutely.”

“Then do so, as much as you can make. I'd like to enjoy them come winter time.”

She smiled to herself knowing it would mean another trip to the river.

“I'll begin collecting more, first thing tomorrow, Sir.”

“Very well. I'll have my bath tonight, be up in my room at 10 pm.”

“Of course.”

It was only once a week or so that she was made to assist him with his bath, but she dreaded scrubbing his back and soaping him up.

/

Carol flopped down in the kitchen as Lori began on the dishes after supper and the look on her face revealed it all.

“Bath night?” Lori asked.

“Why does he never ask you?” Carol sighed.

“The master only has eyes for you,” she winked. “Wouldn't his dear Misses love to know that.”

“I don't think she cares,” Carol groaned. “I think she's glad of it. It's less she has to be in his presence, that woman has no love in her eyes for him.”

“You think?”

“I know so.”

“It's springtime, so we need to be planting his majesty's garden this week,” Lori added sarcastically as she scrubbed the dishes.

“I need to collect more berries in the morning, he has requested preserves,” she said, rolling her eyes while inside she was actually excited.

Telling her friends of the man in the woods would only draw them into her troubles, so she kept it quiet. There was nothing to tell at the moment, and if she were smart, there wouldn't be.

Shane came in late after tilling the soil all day and tending the animals and Lori had a huge plate of stew awaiting him. The seeds of love were growing between them, and Carol knew they were walking a fine line to be courting in the house of Lord Phillip. Any offspring of the relationship would become servants to the master as well, and no mother wanted that for her children.

“Give Shane some of the bread I made this morning and here's some butter left from his lordship's supper,” Carol whispered to Lori.

“Thank you,” she grinned before turning to offer it to Shane. “Here we are, my darling!”

“Well now, woman! What am I tonight, the king himself?”

“You are my king,” she giggled.

Lori snuggled up beside him, and the look in their eyes was priceless.

“Beautiful flowers sometimes grow in low light,” Dale noted.

“That's true, isn't it?” Carol smiled. “They'll be jumping the broom in no time, God willing.”

“Indeed.”

/

Carol began heating water for Lord Phillip's bath and carried it bucket by bucketful up to his chamber. It was back breaking work, and she had to keep the fire high for hours with the help of Dale.

“This man bathes more than any I ever met,” Dale complained.

“It's not the cleanliness he's seeking,” Carol groaned.

“Is he touching you, child?”

“He tries, and soon I'm sure he'll succeed. What am I to do about it anyway?” she shrugged.

“My God,” he sighed.

“It's the lot I've been handed in life,” she smiled. “I'll be fine, my friend.”

“I'll pray he behaves himself.”

“Please do.”

When she stood outside the master's door, he was in a heated debate with one of his lead advisers, and she listened intently.

As brother to the king, there was often something of interest being said in the house, and the work staff had no other entertainment beyond work and gossip.

“I'll unthrone that old coot if it's the very last thing I do!” he was shouting.

This kind of talk was common enough. Lord Phillip argued incessantly that his older brother King Byron was not fit to lead and would run the entire Kingdom into ruin by being too soft-hearted and foolish.

King Byron had no idea of his younger brother's feelings though since Phillip was a master manipulator. Carol had never laid eyes on the king in person, but Dale had served them when taken as a servant to the kingdom on a trip, and they were thick as thieves to the untrained eye.

Dale said the brothers looked like the best of friends to anyone who didn't know any better, but Phillip was very bitter.

“The people love your brother, though. He'll rule until he dies and the man is fit as a fiddle,” the adviser named Milton argued.

“What if he weren't so fit after all?” Phillip suggested, and she took a step back from the door in shock. "What if an accident befell him?" he continued.

It was one thing to complain about his brother, but this was flat out treason.

“Sir, you don't mean that,” Milton exclaimed.

“Of course not...of course not.”

It sounded entirely unconvincing, and she shuddered at the danger she felt in only hearing the words.

“Anyway, I have some time with my servant now so leave me to it.”

“Yes, Sir. I'll see you at the meeting of the landlords tomorrow.”

“That's fine. Good evening, Milton.”

/

Ten minutes later Carol was sat next to the master's tub and running a soapy rag down his back, trying to imagine anyone harming King Byron. He was a benevolent leader who was perhaps a little dim and soft but very well-intentioned and loved by his subjects.

“You seem distant, my dear.”

“I'm sorry, my Lord,” she apologized.

“Tell me what troubles you,” he said as he took her hand and held it to his mouth to kiss.

He often played as though they were a couple when he had her alone, and it made her skin crawl, but she had no power to object.,

“Should the lady of the house ever discover that you are this kind to me I'll find myself out in the rain,” she said, attempting to distract him from even the hint that she had heard him earlier.

“Fear not, she'll never be any the wiser of this.”

Carol tried to imagine having the freedom to leave, to love who she pleased, and to raise her own family in peace. It was fruitless even to dream when she still owed years of her life but it was only natural for a woman to long for such things.

Seeing the good-looking man in the woods lit a fire that had been reduced to only embers and she almost wished she'd never laid eyes on him. Carol could feel the burning begin and knew somehow that it would become all-consuming in time.

Phillip kissed her hand and continued up her arm until she played like she was ticklish to stop him.

Her thoughts were only with Daryl already, and she wondered if she'd see him again.

That night she was made to touch Lord Phillip, and she went to bed feeling filthy and degraded; she had no choice but to obey him, though. Lord Phillip had the power to send her away to years of hard labor in jail until she was a crone. If she thought this was bad, hard labor would teach her all about real hell. Everyone knew how it would break even the strongest of men and at least she had a shred of hope where she was.

Again, her last thoughts that night were of the man with the cornflower eyes and of a future she'd surely never have. Something about the handsome stranger pulled her like a magnet, and she felt helpless to fight her desire for him.

Despite the danger and hopelessness of it all, she still prayed that she'd see Daryl in the morning.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	3. On the 6th Night

_ **The Archer & The Widow - Chapter 3** _

_ **~ On the 6th Night** _

The moon was still in the sky as Carol rolled out of her bed to begin work, it often was. She was kneading dough for bread in the kitchen before both her eyes were even open and only Shane was up at the time.

She cooked him porridge and made small talk about Lori, work, the upcoming garden, and the weather.

Shane was like an older brother, and she loved him as she loved Dale and Lori. So much of their lives depended on supporting each other in the master's house. If one failed, they all failed. Lord Phillip wasn't prone to fits of rage or violence, but he wouldn't stand for being inconvenienced either. He would most likely send them to hard labor for persistent disobedience, but she'd never seen him hit anyone, although Dale said he'd been hit a few times throughout his tenure.

Carol prepared everything that she was meant to and worked a little faster than usual in hopes of getting to the river quicker, Dale noticed her hurry.

“In a rush for berries, child?”

“Preserves take a great deal of time for boiling the jars and whatnot...and we have the entire garden to prepare this week.”

He eyed her with a hint of suspicion but said nothing. Carol took extra time to change before she left and put on the one red dress she owned with Lori's hair combs in her auburn hair. She managed to sneak past Dale on her way to the gate with her basket; Dale would surely know something was up if he saw the way she was dressed. Carol could feel her heart fluttering despite the hopelessness of it all.

She wandered through the forest and gathered some more sage and some elderberries along the way. Almost everything in the forest was of use to them.

The river was silent when she arrived, and her heart sank not to see the man there again. She supposed he couldn't be expected to spend all day there.

Carol collected berries in her basket and decided to take the time alone and make the best of it. She pondered Lord Phillip's words about the king. She had no idea whether to take him seriously or not and she had no influence even if he was serious. Carol sang a happy tune and tossed around her thoughts as she worked.

_**Should morning come and he be there** _

_**the boy with golden eyes and hair** _

_**he will be mine for years to come** _

_**we will be wed; it shall be done** _

_**nothing will part my love and I** _

_**upon the earth or in the sky...** _

“Already leaving me for a this golden haired man, lass?”

“Good God above!” she shrieked, clutching her chest and gasping for air. She had squeezed a handful of berries in fright and turned to look up at the man she hoped to see.

“Daryl,” she sighed, wondering when her heart would still itself.

“I'll fight him for your hand, M'lady,” he chuckled.

“It's only a song,” she said softly getting to her feet and looking at her hand dripping juice.

“Look what you've done,” Daryl grinned, dismounting his horse and taking her by the arm.

He walked her to the river and knelt down, pulling her down with him.

“You've made a right mess of yourself,” he said, taking her hand and moving it toward the water but pausing before it got there.

Carol's heart skipped, and she kept her eyes on his mouth as he spoke, wishing she knew what to say.

To her absolute dismay, he brought her hand to his mouth and licked the tip of her finger slowly. She could feel the sensation of his tongue all over her body, and she was sure she'd faint. It was the kind of sensuality she didn't even know was real, and it flooded her body with desire.

“Very sweet berries...you were right,” he smiled.

He repeated the motion once more with his eyes never leaving hers and then he washed her hand in the river.

“You...” she began but then realized she didn't have the rest of a sentence.

“Have I left you speechless?”

“Yes...no man has ever done such a thing before to me.”

“Did you come back to watch me bathe again?” he smiled.

His eyes were warm, and she wasn't afraid. No man had ever been so forward, and yet she felt safe with him.

“I needed more berries for Lord Phillip, but I did hope to see you as well,” she confessed.

“Tell me more about you. If you can't tell me your full name then tell me something,” he urged, and he finally looked more serious.

“There's not much to say, Sir. I'm a widow at only 24, and I'll be paying off my dead husband's debt to Lord Phillip until I'm an old woman,” she sighed.

“That's a crime. Why not run away?” he asked.

“I have nowhere to go and I'd only be on foot...his men would catch me. His brother is the king; he has power that I couldn't even imagine.”

“I'm not from here, so I'm not familiar with all this. I'm an archer and fletcher setting up business with a friend. I make longbows, and arrows fit for the finest hunter.”

“You are a talented man, Sir. Do you hunt as well?” she asked.

“I can drop a deer from two hundred paces,” he winked. “It's a shame this man has you living as a prisoner; I'd like a pretty lass like you to make my wife.”

“You flatter me,” she sighed.

“You think I jest! I think you'd make a fine wife, lassy. You could stay by my side and raise a whole brood of my children. What if I just took you?” he teased.

“I wish you could,” she frowned. “My life has been decided for me, and I'll be no man's wife.”

“This Lord Phillip cannot stop me stealing a kiss, can he?” Daryl asked.

Sadness brewed in her heart that she wasn't free to belong to Daryl, although she couldn't tell yet if he was serious about her or only teasing.

“I don't suppose he could,” she answered.

“Well then,” he began, getting to his feet and pulling her up with him. “I'll make it a good one and then perhaps I can make you mine.”

She said nothing but licked her lips nervously as he came closer. His lips met hers, and she could almost hear music playing it was so beautiful. Daryl lay his hands on her waist, pulling her closer to him and she ached to be his.

Carol touched his face as they kissed to prove to herself he was real and felt an aching inside to be free of her shackles.

Daryl could apparently see the angst in her face as he backed up.

“I see I have not impressed you.”

“You have, more than I could even tell you. It's just that I cannot belong to anyone but him and I wish it weren't so. I'm so sad, Daryl, that's all it is.”

She felt funny using his first name, but it felt appropriate at the time, his hands were still resting on her waist and burning through her clothing.

“Perhaps there's a way, how much do you owe? Can I purchase your freedom?” he inquired.

“It's thirty pieces of silver,” she sighed. “It's hopeless.”

“Don't say that, lass. I'll think of something, I promise.”

“I'm sure you'll find yourself a free woman who'd love to be yours,” she shrugged.

“I won't be dissuaded; it's you I want and no other.”

“But-”

“Do you want me as well?” he asked.

“I hardly know you, but I want you more than anything,” she proclaimed sincerely.

“Then it shall be so. Can you meet me here some night?”

Carol had never considered leaving in the night and supposed it was possible since she slept in her own tiny quarters; nobody ever checked on her at night.

“I could...I'd have to be careful, but I suppose I could,” she smiled.

“I'm obligated to leave for five nights to pick up materials for our business, but I can be back here by midnight on the 6th night. We could make these woods our home for one night if you wanted to.”

“Yes,” she answered instantly. “I'll be here; nothing will stop me.”

“That's a good lass,” he grinned. “But be careful.”

“I will be.”

“You'll need to be heading back, yes?”

“I will,” she sighed.

“Then kiss me once more until that 6th night, and then I'll make you mine,” he said plainly.

“This is mad,” she began.

“It will take madness to have you for my own, and I'm not afraid of that, are you?”

“Yes.”

“Then I'll be brave for us both,” he said softly as he bent down to kiss her again.

His lips were strong and insistent, and he took her breast with his big hand through her dress, it stole her breath away. He wasted no time making his intentions clear, that much was plain as day.

“I'm coming back for you, and you'll be mine if you want it,” he insisted between kisses and grabbing at her body lustily.

“Yes...please come back for me, Daryl. On that 6th night I'll be all yours,” she panted.

Daryl's hands moved all over her dress, and he backed her into the trunk of a great oak tree in the heat of passion.

Carol could feel him fighting to get her dress up and over her knees, and she was exploding inside with sinful lust for him. She wanted him inside her right there in broad daylight, and she clung to him around his neck.

“I can't take you here and now, lass...” he groaned, forcing himself to slow down, much to her disappointment. “Someone could see us...we must wait.”

“It's only a few days, and I'll be here with you then,” she moaned, releasing her hold on him.

Daryl backed up, and she could see it pained him visibly to leave her as he paused before mounting his horse.

“I will be right here in this spot and so will you. It will be perfect, lass, and then we'll figure out how to set you free.”

“We will?” she almost sobbed.

“Where there's a will, there's a way, and you will be mine, Carol, I'm sure of it.”

He kissed her once more and said he'd be dreaming of her.

“And I of you,” she whispered.

She watched as he rode away, taking her heart with him, and was left aching for his touch.

Daryl sounded so sure that she could be free and she felt a glimmer of hope for the first time in months.

Carol walked home with her basket overflowing with berries for preserves. She felt anxiety and lust fighting for dominance inside her all the way there.

/

“Who is this Lord Phillip?” Daryl asked as he settled down in the pub for a mug of ale with Glenn.

“You'll know his name soon enough. We have to pay taxes to him, and he runs the entire area with only King Byron himself overseeing things.”

“He has a woman in his home as a slave that I want for my own.”

“Pfft! You'll stand a better chance of flying, my friend.”

“She's owing money for her dead husband and being made to work it off. How is such a thing fair?” he asked in frustration.

“It's how things are done here. Is the Irish king so kind that he expects no payments?” Glenn asked.

“I hardly know of such things, Glenn. I spent most of my years in the woods where life makes sense. All I know is that a woman shouldn't be made to lose her whole life for her husband's debts!”

“So she's a fine looking woman I take it,” Glenn teased at his outburst.

“She is indeed, and she'll be mine, just you watch. I saw her there, and I just knew; I always dreamed of a woman just like her.”

“Why must you go for a woman who is bound this way? There are countless women in this area who are unburdened and free, Daryl. It's not like life in the woods of Ireland; there are complications you must consider.”

“She's the one I want, my friend. I've marked my prey,” he grinned.

“You're stubborn as an old mule, Dixon,” Glenn sighed.

“She's a sweet little thing with cheeky eyes, and auburn hair...she watched me bathing,” he chuckled. “She thought I couldn't see her up the bank, but she was looking the whole time.”

“Some woman eyes up your tackle, and you're in love! I should have known you'd be causing mischief as soon as you got here.”

“It's just my way. I'll not be told what to do or who to love. My sites are set on this woman, and she's the one I'll have.”

Glenn knew he was fighting a losing battle, so he decided to leave the subject of women and go over the details of Daryl's trip for materials instead. He had been introduced to Daryl through another fletcher on his travels, and they became fast friends with a shared dream of working for themselves, but he wondered about Daryl sometimes. Daryl had grown up in Ireland and left to find his fortune in England months before. He had lived in the woods for months alone before moving to a village to begin his new life. He had told Glenn that being alone in the woods was the only way to live, but he wanted a family and knew he'd have to bend and live among people to have that.

“5 nights is all it will take for you to be back with the last of what we'll need and then we can begin doing business,” Glenn smiled.

“And we have to pay taxes to this Lord Phillip?” Daryl clarified.

“Yes, you'll have to meet him when we go to make our first payment. After that, the tax collectors will come, and it can be steep at times.”

“So he's a crook.”

“That's why your lady friend sits where she does,” Glenn added. “You'd be wise to forget her.”

“I won't do that,” Daryl insisted. “She'll be carrying my child before the year is up, you watch.”

“Stubborn as an old goat,” Glenn groaned.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting the next chapter as well this week because this first chapter is a lot of plot and I really wanted to get to some nooky;)

_ **^The Archer & The Widow - Chapter 4** _

_ **~ Waiting On Heaven** _

Carol lingered in a state of constant distraction as time passed slowly. She and Lori worked in the garden almost all day long as Lord Phillip held his meeting of landlords to discuss taxation and penalties.

It was common knowledge that the master was unhappy with the level of money collected from his people and that he wanted it to increase. This was a main point of contention between him and the king.

King Byron was in favor of decreasing taxes but was easily bullied by his younger brother until recently. From what Shane had heard around the manor, King Byron was developing a backbone at least somewhat and was trying to fight the taxation proposed by Lord Phillip.

“This meeting is just to try and convince the local landlords to agree with him,” Shane grumbled. “The master won't be happy until everyone in the land is in debt to him and so miserable they can't even smile.”

“Careful what you say, son,” Dale urged. “There are so many strangers in the manor today; you never know who might hear you.”

“What a life we all lead,” Shane sighed.

“I think the king will stand up to him this time,” Lori said. “He must know how these taxes and penalties are crippling everyone.”

“I hope it resolves itself soon,” Carol agreed. “It's causing so much tension in the manor.”

/

That night Carol allowed Shane and Lori to be alone after a long day in the garden and said she'd take care of Lord Phillip's needs. The landlords were still being wined and dined in hopes of persuading them over to his side of the argument, and she assisted some extra kitchen staff with serving drinks and tidying up. Some local women would be gathered when he threw parties to help out with serving, and Carol knew most of them.

She could feel the master's eyes all over her, but she just ignored it, remaining professional and aloof. It helped to remind herself of Daryl's return to make it through her long days. She couldn't wait to meet him in the moonlight and to kiss him once more.

One man who owned property in the area stayed later than the rest, and when the serving staff was sent home, it was left to her to serve them brandy and tend to their needs.

The man's name was Jacobs, and much of the conversation revolved around King Byron's inabilities to control his people. King Byron listened to his subjects when they said that their burdens were too great and he was fighting to make things better, this meant less money in Lord Phillip's pockets.

“Carol, bring my pipe,” he called as she was clearing some empty glasses.

“Yes, Sir,” she smiled.

So much of her pain was stuffed down in order to keep putting one foot in front of the other, but she'd never had an especially easy life, so she was accustomed to it.

She found his pipe, his matches, and his tobacco all in the top drawer of his desk in the study and noted a letter under the matchbook.

_**Lord Phillip Blake,** _

_**If this kingdom is to survive and flourish, then you must take care of your brother. We will not allow our land to be used for less than it's worth. The rights of the landlord mean**_ _**nothing to King Byron and we'll not stand for it any longer. Take this matter in order before someone else does!**_

Carol wasn't a great reader, so it took a while to get through the words on the paper. What she had learned from her mother in terms of reading was steadily disappearing every day that passed. Her mother was gone now, though, and so was everything they shared.

The letter was dated only a week before, and she knew something bad was coming, something that would result in King Byron's death if she did nothing to stop it.

As she reentered the parlor, she pretended that she didn't hear them plotting the king's demise and although they stopped speaking, she had caught enough to know that the king was in danger.

They didn't plan to do it themselves apparently, they wanted someone to set up to do it for them. If someone was caught attempting to assassinate the king, they were smart enough to be sure it wasn't them directly.

/

Carol wondered who to tell about what she had heard. As a servant in the house of Lord Phillip, she had no influence on anyone in power and couldn't speak to the king directly. He lived in the castle which was miles away and with no horse she had no means to reach him.

It ate at her, and although she felt she owed King Byron nothing directly, she couldn't bear it if she didn't at least try.

She found Dale on the morning of the 5th day since she'd seen Daryl last and decided she had to say something. Perhaps nobody would listen, but it would eat her alive if the king was killed and she didn't even try.

“Dale, I need to speak with you.”

"Is this private?” he asked, sensing as he always did the way she was feeling.

“It is.”

“Come, child, we'll speak in the forest.”

He opened the back gate, and she followed him out to the trees where they could speak freely.

“Well then, Carol. Out with it,” he smiled.

“There is a plan afoot to kill King Byron,” she blurted.

“Carol!”

“Lord Phillip is commiserating with some of the local landlords to finish him off. They want full control to tax the people into the ground,” she added in one steady breath.

“You cannot say such things without evidence, child,” Dale insisted.

“There is a letter in his desk from one of the landlords stating it plainly, and I heard him speaking with a man named Jacobs with my own ears,” she insisted.

Dale paced the forest floor and wrung his hands anxiously.

“Who could we possibly tell, though? Who would ever believe us?” he asked and she had no answers for it was true.

“The palace is miles away, and they'd never allow us in to tell him anyway,” she added.

“We need to think on this carefully. King Byron is somewhat weak, but he has a good heart. If Lord Phillip succeeds the throne, it will poison the entire kingdom.”

“I had to tell someone,” she said, looking around her as if the very trees could hear them.

“You cannot breathe a word of this, Carol, not to a single living soul.”

“I won't.”

“Promise me. If you are heard speaking of this, it could be considered treason to gossip against the king's brother if you don't have hard evidence. You could be punished for this.”

“I won't say a word to anyone, Dale, I swear it.”

“Good. I need time to think before we make a move in either direction. Do not let on that you know anything.”

“I won't,” she insisted.

They returned to the outbuilding that they inhabited and acted natural as ever, but it was heavy on both of their minds.

The next night Carol would be meeting Daryl, and she decided to focus on his heavenly kiss as she drew Lord Phillip's bath that evening. She shuddered as she was called in to wash his back and had to keep pulling her mind back to Daryl.

In the moonlight by the river, he would be hers, and nothing could stop her from giving her heart to him. Daryl was a stranger to her, but he promised her dreams so sweet that she almost wept at the thought of them coming true.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

_ **^The Archer & The Widow - Chapter 5** _

_ **~ I love you, lass** _

The moon hung high in the sky above as Carol looked out the window of her quarters. She was beyond nervous at the prospect of being caught, but only death itself would stop her from getting to Daryl.

She combed out her long curly hair and pinned half of it up on her head. Carol had washed in lavender water earlier in the evening, and her body had no traces of her hard labor, she felt like a woman again.

Carol wore the dress she had arrived in when she'd been taken into the master's house, and if she were seen in it, it would be obvious she was meeting a man. The blue and black silk and low cut bodice were a sign that she was not out for a simple evening walk, but she didn't care. She wanted to look good for this man; she wanted him to need her as much as she already needed him.

She lit an oil lamp and crept out the back gate at twenty minutes to midnight, praying that he would be there. Carol had never felt this way before; she craved more of his kiss until it burned in her heart. She walked along the path toward the river and knew it would break her heart to return home without his touch. She wanted to hear his rough voice again, feel his hands upon her skin and have him take her.

An owl watched her transgression and hooted in disapproval, making her jump out of her skin.

“Quiet!” she hissed up at the nocturnal observer.

She took the path to the blueberry bushes, saw the river come into view and then Daryl's white horse.

“You came,” he said, dismounting the beast and reaching for her instantly.

“I promised I would...I couldn't wait to see you," she confessed.

“I brought you something from my journey,” he smiled and began to dig in the saddlebag of his horse.

He handed her a cloth bag, and she insisted he didn't have to give her anything.

“Nonsense, I've already decided that you'll be mine, so I'll buy you what I like,” he smirked.

Carol pulled out a pair of pure white silk gloves and looked up at him helplessly.

“These are...so beautiful, Daryl.”

She was overcome with emotion to have someone show her such kindness for no reason at all.

“What's this now? Tears?” he chuckled, pulling her in close. “Have I brought the wrong thing for you?”

“I just hate that I can't be yours, Daryl. You're a good man.”

“Hey now, lass, no more tears out of you,” he insisted. “Do you need a kiss? Maybe more?”

Carol wiped her cheeks and put the gloves back into the bag for safe keeping.

“I saw those gloves, and I thought you'd find them pretty,” he said simply.

"I do, thank you so much," she smiled.

He backed up from her and began to take off his coat and then lifted his tunic over his head again.

“I've not bathed in days...care to watch?” he grinned.

“You are so free with your body,” she noted.

“I was raised in the forest back home and never learned shame,” he shrugged. “My body be what it is, take it or leave it.”

“Your body is beautiful,” she smiled.

“I'll bet yours is lovely. Why don't you show me then, lass?” he said, reaching for her hand.

“Here?”

“Come in the river with me and wash me down,” he winked. “Stay a while, and we can make love under that big moon up there.”

He stepped back and dropped his trousers, and she moved against all her better instincts to turn around and lift her hair.

Daryl came closer and began on the series of tiny buttons.

“Good lord, woman! I'll be here all night getting you out of this.”

“Then work fast.”

“Yes, Madam.”

Soon the buttons were unfastened, and she stepped out of her dress, and he lay it over the back of his horse.

“How many layers have you got under there?” he asked when he found that she still had a slip and an underskirt with crinoline.

“How am I ever to lay with you if I can't get to your flesh?” he teased.

“Just a moment,” she said, working on the rest of her underthings.

She removed the final piece of material covering her breasts and paused for just a moment.

“Go on,” he pleaded.

Soon she was nude as the day she was born, standing before him in the light of the moon and it felt right to her.

“That's what I like,” he nodded, coming toward her and running his touch down her arms to take her hands.

Her eyes settled on his manhood, already coming to attention for her and making her feel needy inside.

Daryl kissed her hard, and his hands drifted down her body to her ass, and she knew she'd love him till the day she died.

Her right leg wrapped around his waist and he took her behind the knee as he moved his hardness against her hungrily.

"Come into the river," he urged, pulling her to the water's edge.

Carol didn't swim, and she told him to hang onto her lest she should drown.

"I'll not let you go, don't fret," he insisted and soon they were both in the water up to their chests and kissing madly.

"I didn't think I'd get to have you when I first saw you here," she whispered with her wet mouth against his neck.

"I wasn't going to stop till you were mine, it was already decided," he informed her.

She could feel his hard cock against her inner thigh under the water as he hoisted her up into his arms pulling her legs around his waist.

Carol had never felt so high and so wanton in all her life; she needed to have him inside her no matter what it cost her.

Daryl only let her go briefly next to the bank where she could hold onto a big stone, and she watched him impatiently as he scrubbed his body clean under the waterfall.

"You ready for me then?" he asked a little more seriously.

"Yes...I need you now."

When they were out of the water, she felt the slight chill of a breeze, but then he grabbed a blanket from the saddlebag to lay on the earth. She knew he would warm her with his love.

“Will you lay with me then?” he asked.

“Of course,” she smiled, laying down on the blanket and raising her arms over her head in teasing submission.

/

Daryl stood over her and shook his head in awe of her body. Her full breasts and soft belly called to him, and her legs remained crossed at the ankle, making him want to part them.

“Aye, you're the most beautiful thing on God's green earth.”

“Come to me then,” she smiled, opening her arms.

“I think I'll just take you from this fool some night,” he growled as he lay down over her and bit at her throat desperately. “It's been too long since I had a woman and you're about the nicest I ever had.”

She loved how frank he was, and she trembled as he pulled her leg up high around his waist to grind his cock against her heat.

“Take me, please,” she pleaded, but he just moved down her body slowly licking at her skin and holding her arms out to the side.

“I'm gonna taste every inch of you first.”

“I beg your pardon?” she squirmed.

“Hush now and open your legs, lass.”

Carol was so hot inside that she completely submitted to his will. He owned her body, and she knew it was in good hands. Edward had never done any such sensual thing to her, and she was glad of that, but Lori told her once that Shane kissed her there and that it would make you see the very face of God.

“I'll have your sweet cunt if you don't mind,” he laughed.

Carol had heard the word 'cunt' before around workmen and farm laborers, but nobody had ever said it to her directly.

Daryl grinned up at her and licked his lips as he noticed her stunned expression.

“Offended? Do you prefer the term 'honeypot'?”

“Yes,” she giggled, “but nobody has ever done this.”

“You said you were married, though, did you not?”

“I was.”

“Couldn't have been,” he argued. “If this man didn't please you then you were not married.”

With that, he bowed down and kissed the pale, white skin of her inner thighs, and she moaned into the cool night air.

Above her were tree branches and patches of night sky, she was coming alive for the very first time.

His lips crept closer and closer to her wet heat, and she tried to close her knees in anxious response, but he wasn't having it.

“None of that now,” he crooned, and she relented to his lips pressing softly against hers.

She whined and squirmed just a little against his mouth, and he held her steady as his tongue slid between the folds of tender flesh.

“Oh Jesus!” she sighed, and her legs fell open limp against the blanket.

On and on his mouth tortured her into complete submission and she begged him to take her.

“Not yet.”

She could feel something rise up inside her and she wondered if she was losing her mind.

“I feel...” she began. “I feel like I may faint.”

“You're almost spent, love, that's all it is,” he whispered as he slid a single finger inside her.

“Oh God,” she cried at the dual sensation of his mouth on her most forbidden area and his finger moving slowly in and out of her. “Oh dear Lord, forgive me!”

He didn't let up until she was sobbing with release and dragging him over top of her.

“Take me now, please...fill me with your perfect cock,” she begged.

Daryl didn't mess around; he was a wild man of the forest who lived his simple life in the moment. Only a second later he was sheathed in her, and she melted into the ground beneath her.

“That what you needed, lass?” he chuckled.

“Oh yes,” she whimpered as he rolled his hips steadily into her.

“Nothing quite like a soft woman, yielding and sweet like you,” he groaned as he fucked her senseless.

When she did look up, she could see his perfect face, his bare chest and the stars in the heavens.

He made love to her like she'd never known and by the time he pulled out to cum all over her thighs and belly she was madly in love.

The man with the cornflower eyes collapsed down beside her on the blanket and was still panting when she asked if he loved her.

“Aye, love is what I felt as soon as I met you,” he sighed.

“Me too.”

“Well then, it only makes sense that we get you out of that house and living with me. I'll marry you as soon as I'm able.”

“I could be Mrs. Daryl Dixon quite happily,” she smiled, running her fingertips up and down his body.

“That's what we'll do then," he said simply. "I'll figure a way to make you a free woman and then take you for my very own...just you ought to get dressed, or you'll freeze to death."

She giggled and got to her feet as they both dressed in the dark woods and her oil lamp began to flicker.

"I want to take you back with me. I don't have much, not even my own home but I will get everything I need to care for you in short order."

"I know you will. Where do you live?" she asked, just needing to know something more about him.

I share a room in the old fletcher's cabin; he died last year, so my friend and I are to take over that role. I'll have income soon, and you will be with me, lass, don't doubt that I'll find a way."

"When will I see you again?" she inquired.

"Can you read?" he asked.

"Yes, nothing too complex but I can."

"I'll leave notes for you....in the knot of that tree there. I don't know for sure when I can come again but look in there for word, OK?"

She felt a little funny not to have an actual day, and for a split second, she doubted that she'd see him again.

"I have something else for you," he said as he hugged her goodnight.

"You don't need to give me anything," she insisted clutching the cloth bag containing the gloves.

"It was my mother's," he said, taking something small from his pocket. "I have no ring for you yet."

Daryl took her hand and fastened a bracelet around her wrist with tiny seashells as charms.

"Oh my goodness, Daryl...this is too much."

"You're going to be my wife, love. Nothing is too much."

In that moment, Carol believed deep down in her heart that he'd be hers forever and it was like being set free, if only in her heart.

"I'll walk you back," he said, and he walked the horse along with them to the edge of the woods near the back gate and kissed her goodbye for the night.

"I love you, lass. Take care until I see you again."

"I will. I love you too."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	6. I'd Give It All Away...

_ **The Archer & The Widow - Chapter 6** _

_ **~ I'd Give It All Away...** _

Daryl didn't know enough about English society to understand how to free the woman he loved and that's where his new friend would be helpful.

“I need to know how to get her out of that house,” Daryl sighed as he began work on a set of new arrows for their first customer.

“You cannot, Daryl. I told you to keep your distance and now you've gone and plundered her goods in the forest like a common brute!”

“I only fucked her, I'm no pirate,” he laughed.

“Take this seriously, my friend, it's sure to end in heartache.”

“I need money, Glenn. If I have the 30 pieces of silver then he must let her go, isn't that so?”

“Where on earth would you ever get that color of money?” Glenn scoffed.

“I heard talk in the village of a competition for 50 pieces of silver, some kind of tournament,” Daryl mused as he trimmed feathers for the arrows.

“You're a fine archer, Daryl, but this would be against the very best archers in the kingdom...I can't say you'd win.”

“I have to if I'm going to make her mine.”

“What is it with this one woman? You'd win 50 pieces of silver and give all but 20 of them away for her hand?” Glenn pondered.

“I'd give it all away,” Daryl said plainly. “It's only money; it means nothing to me.”

“It will mean something when Lord Phillip begins to take it from us.”

“Perhaps it will mean more then, but it will never mean more than a woman,” he argued.

“She must be a fine lay,” Glenn laughed.

“She's fine in every way. A beautiful face, sweet manor and definitely a fine body,” he smirked.

“Feel free to enter but don't be too disappointed if you don't win.”

“I'll give it my all, that's all I can do. If I lose I'll just go and snatch her out of her bed and run off back to Ireland,” he chuckled.

/

Carol was sent to the chambers of Lord Phillip's wife when she was informed that she had taken ill and couldn't get up.

“How may I serve you, Madam?” she bowed.

“May I just have some cold water, dear?”

“Of course. Anything to make you feel more comfortable. May I call for the doctor again?”

“There's no use,” Mary sighed. “I'm dying.”

“Don't say that, Madam. I'm sure you're just fine, it's only-”

“Carol, I am and I'm fine about it. Nothing can be done and I'm not one for weeping.”

“I'm so sorry, Madam.”

Carol was genuinely sorry for the news, she had a sneaking suspicion that Mary Blake had been pushed into her marriage as well. She brought water to her bedside and was stunned to have the lady of the house hold her hand.

“I was told you know how to use what you gather in the woods.”

“Yes, for the most part.”

“I need you to prepare me some wild lettuce from the forest.”

“Of course. Is the pain very bad?”

“Yes, very bad. I'm bleeding from my womb and it's been months...I'm getting thin and the doctor says I'm not long for this world.”

“I'm so sorry,” she repeated, squeezing her hand.

“Phillip troubles you,” she said with a knowing smile.

“No...I..”

“I know that he does, I can see it in his eyes, and I know that you're not leading it on.”

“I'm not, I swear to God.”

Mary chuckled and shook her head.

“I'm more sorry for it than anything. I wish he'd just quit pestering pretty young things like you.”

“I'll never speak a word of it. I'm just afraid to be punished for saying stop.”

“It's a woman's lot in life, isn't it?” Mary sighed.

Carol had never spoken this much to her, and she wished they had been this way sooner.

“It is, indeed. I have no power in this world.”

“Thanks to a man as well. Your dead husband signed your death warrant.”

Carol almost wept because it was true.

They spoke a little longer and Carol promised to go first thing in the morning to find her the painkilling wild lettuce she asked for. With another reason to go to the forest she knew that she'd be checking the knot in the tree for word from Daryl.

/

Back in the servant's quarters she discussed everything with Lori. She trusted Lori not to say anything and if the Lady was dying, everyone would know soon enough.

“I always liked her,” Lori said. “Listen to me, she still lives, and I'm speaking like she's gone already.”

“She needs wild lettuce for her pain and I must go retrieve it for her first thing in the morning. The doctor has only offered her mead for discomfort.”

“The garden is half planted, and Shane is tending the animals, go and do what you must for the poor woman,” Lori insisted.

Carol considered telling her about Daryl but she couldn't risk it even though she did trust her. Her only happiness and possible hope of freedom was wrapped up in Daryl and she held it close and protected.

The next morning she served Phillip his coffee and eggs with fresh bread and then tended to the lady of the house. She managed to get out of the manor by 10 am and went directly to the spot where she'd made love to Daryl.

She wondered if he'd been there and prayed that she'd find some word from him in the tree knot.

She slid her hand into the space and felt around, finding only cobwebs for a moment until her hand brushed a slip of paper and she squealed with girlish delight.

 

_**I will win the money to free you in the archery competition. You will be mine soon, love. Meet me here on the next full moon at midnight.** _

_**Your man, always** _

_**xo** _

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	7. We will win, lass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Going to speed up posting just a touch because life has settled down a little for me (YES)  
> I'll post 1-2 chapters a week now, although I'm not sure which days.  
> Thanks very much for reading, it means a lot to me!  
> Teagan xoxo

_ **The Archer & The Widow - Chapter 7** _

_ **~ We will win, lass** _

  
  


Carol knew that the full moon was only days away and she craved Daryl's touch again. He was a beautiful ray of hope in her ugly world.

She noticed that Daryl didn't leave names on the note and that was a smart way to go; she didn't want anyone to discover they loved each other until she could be free.

Lori and Shane worked the garden primarily and Dale tended the animals as Carol was expected to deal personally with Lord Phillip and Mary.

Mary told her more over their time together about how unbearable her marriage to Lord Phillip had been and Carol pitied her even more now that she'd never have a chance to be free of him. Mary had been married off to him at only 17 and when it was discovered that she would bear him no sons, or daughters for that matter, he turned cold toward her. He was never physically abusive but he never dealt with her lovingly and generally ignored her. Nobody was allowed to divorce by the law of the land and Mary resigned herself to a life of misery that was now ending far too soon. Carol couldn't help but see her lot in life as very similar to Mary's, she too was forced to spend her life in the master's house with  little  chance of escape.

Carol cared for her the best she could, but the lady of the manor was fading fast. With the comfort brought by the wild lettuce, though, Mary was able to rest and sleep much of the day. It made Carol happy to at least offer her some basic comfort.

Carol tended to Mary like her own  kin  and was able to avoid Lord Phillip to a greater degree.

She collected elderberries and wild lettuce daily and gathered lavender for Mary's room to reduce the scent of sickness and impending death.

The full moon was coming soon and Carol ached to have Daryl near her again. The competition was an idea that she  never would  have considered and his confidence made her feel such hope inside. If he won, she could be free to be with him and if he was as good a shot as he told her there was every reason to be optimistic.

/

The day before the full moon found Daryl in the forest practicing his aim with Glenn.

“Tell me more about this competition, Glenn.”

Daryl needed to know exactly what he was up against in order to prepare mentally.

“You have to hit targets of varying size and even some moving ones. Men are removed round by round from the competition as they fail to meet the rising standard. Many men try and many men fail,”  Glenn informed him.

Daryl lined up a shot to hit a bag of sand on a stump that Glenn had arranged. The bag was 50 yards off but with obstacles in the way and Daryl took a slow breath and pictured Carol's body in the moonlight as he released the arrow.

“Very nice!”  Glenn praised. “But if you plan to be ready for this then I'm having you hone your skills for hours a day until the tournament next week.”

Daryl smiled and walked off to collect the arrow, nothing was about to stop him from getting what he wanted. Giving up or taking the easy road just wasn't in him, Daryl had survived for most of his life with only his own grit,  stubbornness  and drive.

Glenn set up target after target for him and let him know exactly what to expect from the tournament and the skills of the other archers.

Daryl planned to give every excess piece of silver to Glenn for his assistance if he won; all he wanted from the tournament was Carol's hand.

/

On the night of the full  moon  Daryl mounted his horse to meet her in the dark woods by the river. His business with Glenn was picking up steam and they were already becoming known as fine fletchers and honest men among the villagers.

Daryl had made a little money already and immediately found something for his new love in the village but it would take more saving.

He rode into the woods by the light of the bright full moon and imagined her body under him again. She left him hungry every night as he settled in his bunk and thought of her, now he'd get to have her again.

When he reached the edge of the river, she was sat at the water's edge and looked sad.

“Carol?”  he asked when she finally looked up and he could see that she was crying. “What troubles you?”

“The lady of the house has died,”  she said softly.

“But you're a prisoner there?”  he frowned in confusion. “Why should this upset you so?”

“Because she was a prisoner too, she never loved Lord Phillip and could never leave...it made me sad for her,”  she wept.

“Come,”  Daryl urged when he dismounted his horse and came to sit next to her.

Carol settled in his embrace and felt instantly better, still sad but calmer.

“I cared for her in her dying days and just wish there was more I could do for her.”

“I'm sure you brought her great comfort,”  he said, running his hand up and down her arm.

“I did all I could...and she didn't die alone. I was right there, but not him; he wouldn't come.”

“He is not a man,”  Daryl growled. “No man would leave a woman to die alone...may I kill him, lass?”

“Killing him wouldn't be worth losing you, love,”  she sighed.

“Who says I'd get caught?”  he chuckled.

“How did you manage to make me smile now of all days?”  she asked, looking up into his blue eyes longingly.

“I know not, but I'm glad of it. I always want my love to be full of cheer. You may be happy to know that I have practiced ceaselessly since I saw you last. I will win this competition yet.”

“I know you will, my man,”  she purred, moving in to kiss his lips.

“All I need is your faith in me,”  he whispered as he lay his hand behind her head and lowered her back to the earth.  “Soon we'll share a grand bed where I can make love to you properly.”

“This is proper, as long as you're inside me,”  she insisted, pulling him over her and entangling him between her legs.

“Have you been wanting for me, lass?”  he grinned.

“My body longs for you, as does my heart and my every thought...you must put me out of my misery, love.”

Daryl's hands fought with clothing: laces, tiny buttons and hooks, until he made it to her precious skin.

Carol needed to feel his hard cock in her hand and so she ripped at his trousers, exposing him with  irrational  passion.

“Is this what you want you naughty wench?”  he growled laying his hand over hers down the front of his pants.

“Yes...it's mine! No other woman shall ever so much as see it, do you hear me?”  she panted.

“Yes, ma'am,”  he chuckled, dropping his pants and underthings until they were both nude and primed for love.

Carol had walked in on Shane and Lori earlier that week and stepped awkwardly out of the room when she realized Lori's head was under the blanket; it gave her ideas.

Carol wanted to do every forbidden thing with her man, every beautiful, sensual thing she could imagine.

She kissed her way down his body as he had done to her and guessed her way through it.

Taking his cock in her hand, she bowed down to his hardness and ran her wet tongue over his skin.

“Oh, lass...that's a sin surely,”  he moaned. “It's far too good to be sanctioned by the Almighty.”

Her mouth closed around the stiff perfection of his manhood and his fingers tangled into her auburn hair urging her on.

The passion for him only reached higher heights, it was never enough. Soon he was gasping and squirming away from her in an attempt to hang onto his main goal.

“Enough now, I'll be spilling my seed down yer throat yet,”  he laughed as he rolled over her to reciprocate.

Carol lay back on the barren earth with the man she loved over her and the grass tickling her skin. She was one with the ground, the grass, the star-filled  sky, and so was he.

She felt his fingertips teasing the entrance to her body, and she arched her back, inviting him inside.

Daryl was a man who knew how to please a woman, though, and never went straight for the kill. His attention moved to the bundle of nerves at the crown of her heat and he drew her lust to its peak so easily.

“How can you do this to me so well?”  she cried.

Daryl didn't answer then, he just lay his forehead against hers and continued to move his fingers in those small intoxicating circles as she writhed on the earth like a victim of love.

She was wet and warm and Daryl wanted inside her but he wanted to hear her come apart first.

“Let go for me, lass...let me hear you break for me,”  he pleaded, never stopping with the torture and then adding to the whole thing with his mouth.

“Oh God!”  she shuddered as she felt his mouth on her lips and his long hair spilled over her inner thighs. “I...oh Christ!”

She found herself rolling her hips toward his mouth and he held her so tight that she couldn't escape his tongue flicking softly against her clit.

In only a heartbeat he was inside her again and her insides were still pulsating from the edge of heaven and pulling his cock in tighter.

He grunted and groaned as he held her right leg up around his hip and lay his left hand under her head.

“Fill me, my man...you fuck me so good! Don't ever stop!”  she whined into his messy hair.

“I'll never touch another woman, Carol...yours is the only body I ever want.”

It came to a head as a night bird squawked in the distance and Carol whimpered in beautiful agony at the pressure deep inside her.

“Oh hell, woman! You'll be the death of me yet,”  he growled over her, and she smiled with pride in his intense masculinity.

It felt like nothing could touch them by the river in the dark, but they were still being kept apart by powerful forces.

/

“So you'll win?”  she grinned as he pulled his tunic over his head and then assisted her with the buttons up the back of her dress.

“I will, and then you'll come be my bride, right?”  he said, lifting her hair to kiss the back of her neck.

“I can't wait,”  she sighed, “I believe in you, Daryl. I know you can do this.”

She turned to him and he still looked completely sure of everything. He lifted her chin to look him dead in the eye and told her that he loved her.

“Keep watching for notice. I'll be practicing hard and thinking of you all the time. The tournament is only next week and this will be over," he assured her.

Carol didn't want to separate from him; she always feared she might never see him again somehow.

She clung to him, trying to imprint on her memory just what it felt like to be in his arms.

“We will win, lass. Don't be afraid now,”  he whispered.

Somehow he knew just what she was feeling without words and it was clear that he'd been sent to her by God himself.

  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


 

 

 

 

  
  


 

  
  


 


	8. Hedging Bets

_ **The Archer & The Widow - Chapter 8** _

_ **~ Hedging Bets** _

 

Carol didn't know what to do from one moment to the next, and her friends in the manor wondered what would be happening now that Mary had passed away.

“I just can't believe how quickly she faded,” Lori mused. “When my own mother passed it felt as though it went on for years, although it was only months.”

“She was sick for longer than she let on,” Carol sighed. “Mary Blake was a strong and lovely woman who didn't want to be tended to. I pray that she's at rest in the house of the Lord now.”

“Indeed,” Shane agreed. “I never had a bad word for that woman; she deserved better than him.”

Dale nodded, and they all continued to prepare the home for guests.

Carol presumed that any plans to attack the king would be placed on the back burner considering that Mary had only just passed away, but she wouldn't put anything past Lord Phillip either. Dale still had no answers, and neither did she, it was a dangerous situation.

If they did nothing, they'd have the king's death on their hands. If they spoke against Lord Phillip without proof, they could be jailed or worse.

Carol wanted to tell Daryl everything about Lord Phillip, but the less he knew, the better in terms of his own safety. If Daryl knew about what Phillip made her do when they were alone in the bathing room, he would kill him, and Carol wouldn't risk Daryl over it.

/

“You're improving!” Glenn praised. “And you were a fine shot before.”

“Do I stand a hope?” Daryl asked as he cleaned the earth and leaves from the arrow he collected.

“I think you do actually. Have you entered the competition officially yet?”

“As of this morning, I am entered,” he nodded. “So when do we have to pay Lord Phillip?”

Glenn insisted that he'd be going to make the payment alone that very afternoon and that Daryl could stay working.

“No, that won't do at all,” Daryl argued. “I want to see this man for myself. He has my woman living under his thumb. I want to know who I'm up against.”

“That's exactly why you should stay here! You're going to start something when there's no need, Daryl. I just need to make a payment, that's all!”

“I'm coming, Glenn. Are you going to stop me?”

“Why is everything so damned hard with you?” Glenn groaned.

“I'll be calm, I swear it,” Daryl promised.

Glenn knew there was no point in fighting, so he left it be and saved his strength for actually taking Daryl to Lord Phillip's home.

/

Daryl could hardly believe one man lived in such a huge place with only a few other people. He'd seen the massive estate when he blew into town and presumed that more than one family lived there.

He and Glenn rode up to the front gate and were met by Dale who happened to be tending to the master's horse in the front of the house.

“Hello, Gents!” he smiled.

“Hello, Sir,” Glenn smiled, tipping his cap. “We were told to report to Lord Phillip to discuss tax collection.”

“Right this way,” Dale said, pausing to shake both of their hands and leading them inside. “So what's the new venture?”

“We're the new village fletchers, we're both archers as well,” Glenn informed him as Daryl followed behind and eyed everything around him with wonder.

He'd never been in such a building with high ceilings, art on the walls, sculptures, and imported furnishings. The entire place blew his mind, and he kept his eye out for Carol as he followed but couldn't say a word.

Dale led them to Lord Phillip's office and said he'd be right with them and also wished them good fortune with their new business.

“Thank you,” Daryl nodded and sat down in the most expensive chair he'd ever laid eyes on.

When they were alone, he leaned into Glenn with a smirk and a dry comment.

“Told you this man is a crook; just look at this place, will you?”

“Shhh!” Glenn admonished him. “You'll get us into trouble.”

Finally, they were met by a middle-aged man in a fine suit and a fancy way of speaking, but he didn't scare Daryl.

“I'm Lord Phillip. You two are here to discuss your taxes?” he began.

“Yes, Sir,” Glenn nodded.

“I'll have my servant bring some refreshments,” he offered, and Daryl just shrugged his shoulders.

Phillip rang a bell and Carol appeared and curtsied before him.

“Bring brandy and a few cigars,” Phillip instructed her.

“Yes, my Lord.”

He wanted to be called Lord in front of guests, all part of his ego. Carol didn't look at Daryl, and he knew exactly why; she was ashamed for him to see her this way.

It was at that moment that Daryl knew he would win Carol's freedom or die trying. He also sensed that there was something not right about the way Phillip looked at her and it made his blood boil.

“I hope you'll forgive the somber mood in the manor. My dear wife has just passed on, and things are not the same,” Phillip explained.

“We're so sorry to hear that, Sir,” Glenn said, offering condolences to which Daryl added a nod of his head.

“It is what it is; I believe she's at peace now. So then, I have a number written here that I believe is reasonable for you,” Phillip began and slid the paper across his desk to Glenn.

Daryl got the chills at how casually this man discussed his dead wife when Carol had been so devastated by it; the man was a monster.

Glenn took one look at the paper and choked.

“5 pieces of silver a month is more than we'll even make this month, Sir. We need to establish a clientele before we can pay anything like this amount.”

“I see,” Phillip smiled as Carol walked back in with a tray of drinks and the paraphernalia needed for smoking.

“Thank you,” he nodded to her, and she bowed before leaving the room. This time she snuck a glance at Daryl, and it was sealed in his mind, Carol would be free sooner than later.

“And what say you?” Phillip asked Daryl.

“We'll pay what we can...but we cannot pay what we don't have.”

Daryl knew nothing about business negotiations, and it didn't help that he hated this man.

“Well, lads, you do present a fair case, and I am a fair man. I'll give you six months to establish a clientele, and until then I only require two pieces a month. Fair?”

“Yes, Sir,” Glenn smiled. “Thank you, Sir.”

“Fine. Let's drink to it then,” Phillip said, offering them both a drink and a smoke.

Daryl didn't know if it was fair or not, so he kept his mouth shut and let Glenn make the deal.

“Will you both be at the big competition?” Phillip asked.

“Daryl is competing?” Glenn informed him.

“Ah! Are you a good shot, son?”

Daryl despised this man calling him 'son' when he was the captor of the woman he loved, but he couldn't let on.

“I'm not so bad, and I've been practicing a lot,” he answered.

“He's being modest, Sir,” Glenn butted in. “He's a fine archer, one of the best I've ever seen.”

“Would I be smart to put money on you then?” he asked Daryl with raised eyebrows.

“I couldn't say,” he shrugged.

“I'm betting on him,” Glenn chimed in.

“Well,” Phillip mused. “I may have to hedge my bets with you this year, son.”

Daryl wanted to leap across the desk and tear him limb from limb. The way he was treating Carol and the way he spoke of his only recently deceased wife enraged him.

“Perhaps I could stop by your new business to have a look for myself.”

“By all means, Sir. You're welcome anytime,” Glenn beamed.

/

“What were you thinking of to invite that bastard to our front door?” Daryl grumbled.

“What was I meant to do, Daryl. That man owns us, and if he wanted to put us out of business all it would take is the stroke of a quill,” Glenn informed him. “I don't know how things work in Ireland, but here there are masters and servants. Guess which ones we are!”

“I need to stop by the spot where I meet Carol,” Daryl said, turning his horse in into the woods.

“She isn't for you, Daryl!” Glenn called. “That woman is the property of Lord Phillip.”

“No! She'll be free! Carol is nobody's property. I'll win her hand, and you'll see it with your own eyes!”

Daryl took off into the woods and toward the sacred place where he met and loved his heart's desire. Daryl was furious at the regulations on his life. He wanted to love a woman and care for her; why that had to be anyone else's business, he had no idea.

He would win the money, and she'd be his.

Daryl halted his horse at the clearing by the water and instantly he could taste her sweet skin again. He could feel her underneath him and hear her moaning for more.

He dismounted and walked to his saddlebag to get some paper and a quill.

_**I am determined as ever, love. Do not doubt that you will be with me soon and I will cherish you as you deserve. You looked embarrassed today to be serving him, and I wish that you wouldn't feel that way. It is not you that has placed you where you are, it is your dead husband, and I know that. You will be free, I will make you my wife, and you'll never serve anyone again.** _ _**Think of names for our babes, love, for soon they will be conceived. Meet me in 3 nights at midnight.** _

_**/** _

Carol only had a guess what the word conceived meant, but she felt renewed with hope that it would all work out. Nobody noticed her slip away to check the tree, but she couldn't linger long. She held the letter to her breast as if attempting to absorb his touch and his very spirit through the paper.

 

 

 


	9. Insurance

_ **^The Archer & The Widow - Chapter 9** _

_ **~ Insurance** _

When she returned this time, Dale questioned her; she knew eventually he would.

“What are you up to, child?” he asked outright.

“I met someone, Dale. I'm in love.”

“With who? Where did you meet this man?” he asked, his face was half excitement and half concern.

“We met in the woods, he's a good man, and he has promised to win my freedom so that we can be married.”

“What is his name?”

“You must promise not to breathe a word to anyone; I cannot put him in danger.”

“I would sooner die than reveal anything you tell me in confidence, Carol.”

“Daryl Dixon, he was at the manor with his business partner.”

“I shook the man's hand myself. As long as you are sure his intentions are true, I will defend you in this pursuit, but you have to be very careful. How does he intend to free you?”

“By winning the archery competition and paying my debt to Lord Phillip.”

Carol could tell that Dale was afraid for her, she was afraid for herself, but she knew he'd never tell. Dale was the father she'd never been blessed with.

“I've been thinking about what you told me about the master. Could you retrieve that letter you found safely?” Dale asked in a hushed voice.

“I could, in fact, it could only be me. Lord Phillip asks only me to collect his pipe or his cigars; he allows me in his office without a thought.”

“Perhaps we should take it. It could be insurance for us that there really is a plot afoot against the king. Maybe you could even find other evidence.”

“I'll do it,” she smiled, thankful that he was treating her as a grown up and not a child who needed to be protected. She loved Dale and the way he looked out for her and Lori but she needed to do something, and this could protect them all.

/

That evening she was called to Lord Phillip's chambers, and he asked her to shave his face.

“Of course, my Lord.”

“Carol...I've been thinking a lot about you.”

“Me, Sir?” she asked as she filled the basin with hot water from the bucket she had brought up.

“I'd like it if you'd call me Phillip when we're alone.”

She couldn't help the way her skin crawled as he approached her from behind and she couldn't imagine calling him by his first name.

His hand came to rest on her waist, and she thought of Mary, she missed her already.

“I think you're special, Carol. I don't think you were meant to be born the way you were.”

She turned to face him and tried against all hope to keep things casual.

“I think you were meant to be born to a higher station...these hands,” he said, taking her hands in his. “These hands weren't intended for hard graft.”

Carol had no idea what to say, but she knew she ought to smile. The master had too much pride for her to get away with ignoring his attention.

“Thank you, Sir...Phillip.”

With that, he sat, and she carefully shaved his face. Carol began to plan out in her mind how she would pull off the theft of his personal documents and became more nervous as the seconds passed.

She stood before him after she finished and washed the cream from his face while trying not to look him in the eye.

“Maybe you'd come to the competition with me?” he stated, and she knew it really wasn't a question.

Carol could hardly believe he was making a move toward her when his wife's corpse was only barely cold; the man had no scruples.

“I would be honored,” she said, bowing her head a little in submission...what choice did she have?

“Grand! You're welcome to any dress of Mary's you like. I'm putting all my money this year on that new archer, Dixon. Nothing I like better than a dark horse.”

“Very good, Phillip,” she smiled. Still, his name tasted metallic on her tongue.

He grinned at her as if he wasn't the world's biggest cad and asked her to fetch him a brandy and his pipe.

“Of course,” she said, gathering the mess from shaving and tidying it before leaving.

Carol returned a moment later with all of the things he requested and the letter from the landlords tucked down the front of her bodice. Her heart fluttered, and she was sure the guilt was written across her forehead.

“I'm going to be ridding myself of clutter in the office tomorrow, perhaps you'd join me,” he asked.

“Of course,” she nodded.

“I'm going to load up all of Mary's things into the attic and clear out her private chambers as well, a lot of work to do so I'll need you by my side.”

“Of course,” she smiled.

“I can always count on you; Carol...you're not like the others.”

“Thank you, Phillip. You flatter me.”

“No flattery, my dear,” he said, coming ever closer. “I quite enjoy your company...”

Phillip reached his hand out to touch her face, and she knew that even the hint of a flinch would injure his precious pride. When he lay a soft kiss on her cheek and then her neck she felt such betrayal of her one true love that she knew she'd be scrubbing her skin when she returned to her room.

Thankfully it ended with only those kisses but if she weren't freed soon, she would be pulled into his bed and then her very soul would die.

/

When Carol got back to her room, she knew that the letter would never be safe in the manor, if it were found they could be killed for it. The only answer was to hide it in the forest; somewhere nobody would ever look for it.

Carol still didn't want to tell Daryl, anything he knew could be a liability for him with his hot temper and heroic ways. She decided she'd bury the letter and anything else she found the next day in the woods by the berry bush. Life was becoming dangerous, but there was also the potential of freedom, so she had no choice but to move toward hope and Daryl.

 

 


	10. Little Bird

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was gone on holiday for a week, but I'm back now and ready to keep posting;)

_ **^The Archer & The Widow - Chapter 10** _

_ **~ Little Bird** _

“He's clearing out her possessions already?” Shane exclaimed the next morning at breakfast.

“I know, it made me ill to even think of it,” Carol frowned. “Soon it'll be as though she never existed at all.”

“And you are being forced to spend the entire day with him in the main house?” Lori asked, shaking her head.

“I'm so lost,” Carol almost sobbed. “He is making uncomfortable moves toward me...he asked me to attend the competition with him.”

“Good Lord! That man is a prick!” Dale growled.

Nobody ever heard Dale speak that way before; it was becoming too much for him. Dale had loved Lady Mary and happily served her for years.

“I'm so sorry that he's being this way with you,” Lori said, rubbing her back and looking at her sympathetically.

“I better go before he comes calling for me,” she frowned.

The only thing keeping her going was the knowledge that she'd be meeting Daryl that night.

Up in Mary's room she was made to collect all of her things and place them in a massive trunk. The bed had already been stripped but she had to clear out the closet and dresser, it felt almost criminal.

There were mementos from a happier time all throughout her possessions and it made Carol so sad. Mary had been a big reader at one time and had a notebook of poems she wrote herself. There was needlework and a drawing of her parents presumably with a small girl. Whoever had drawn the picture was very talented.

Carol had the room emptied by noon and was made to choose one of her gowns to attend the competition. The whole thing reeked of poor taste but she had no option but to go along with it.

“Come, Carol. We just need to work on the office now,” Phillip called to her after lunch.

She hoped that the clearing of the office would disguise the missing letter that she still had hidden in her room. Perhaps if he couldn't find it later, he'd just presume it was lost in the cleaning up process.

“How will I know what needs to be kept?” she asked as she was handed a box of paper work.

“Anything with the royal seal is kept and anything from the last two years of tax collection, everything else can be moved to the attic,” he explained.

“Very well,” she smiled.

The entire manor was empty save for them both and it made her especially nervous. Dale, Shane and Lori were all working hard in the garden as she shuffled papers under his watchful eye. She sorted everything she found into piles and when he finally left the room to answer to some business at the door she searched the desk frantically while there was a chance. All his newest documents were kept there and she suspected that anything incriminating would be there as well.

She kept an ear out and opened each drawer with her hands trembling. It wasn't even against his wishes for her to be looking in the desk but she knew if she found something that she'd be stealing it from him and that was dangerous.

Finally, her eyes caught a sentence that stood out in a personal letter that had been in a yet unsealed envelope.

_**I'll not sully my own hands in this affair. I'll dupe a commoner into it, that's what the lower class is there for. If someone is going to be found aiming for the king's head, it will not be me, I assure you. Tell the landlords that it will be done before the end of seeding and that the rate of taxes will be up to them when I succeed the throne.** _

_**Lord Phillip** _

She took the letter and folded it neatly before looking up to the doorway and simultaneously sliding it down her bodice against her left breast. Carol closed the drawer and moved back to the spot where she had been kneeling on the floor and sorting earlier. She took a few deep breaths to steady her nerves but her heart was palpitating hopelessly.

“How are you doing, my dear?” Phillip asked with a friendly smile upon his return to the office.

“Good,” she answered with extra sweetness in her eyes. Carol had to make him feel complete confidence in her loyalty, and she didn't mind playing sweet to do that.

Phillip shut the door behind him and walked slowly toward her from behind.

She didn't look up but she knew this was it, he was going to push it this time. The air was thick with tension and she hoped that he wouldn't strip her bear and find the letter.

Before she could think straight, he was kneeling behind her on the ground and kissing the back of her neck. She tensed a little automatically and hoped he wouldn't take it as an insult.

“Are you shy my little bird?” he asked in a low voice that could have been sultry were he not a predator.

He had never called her this before, and she wondered where the idea had come to him, she didn't want to be thought of as his little bird...his pet.

“A little,” she whispered.

No words were right for such a situation.

“But you have known a man, so you mustn't be too shy,” he breathed as his hand moved around to her waist.

She tried to picture the exact placement of the letter in her dress, and she could feel a corner of the paper against the far side of her left breast, almost in her armpit.

Phillip continued to kiss her neck and pulled her body back against his.

“Do you like this my little bird?” he murmured.

“It's....nice,” she spoke softly, picturing Daryl eviscerating him right then and there.

Without warning, Phillip's hand slid into her dress, and he took her entire right breast in his huge hand. He turned her head to kiss him back, and she relented under the circumstances.

This man could make her disappear, he could destroy every chance she ever had of being with Daryl so kissing him back was not a choice; still, she hated herself for she belonged to another man body and soul.

His fingertips circled her nipple, and she wanted him dead, even as it felt remotely good. It felt as though her body were betraying her mind and heart.

“I can feel that you like it, Carol...I'd bet you're all warm and wanting for me,” he almost growled. “I should take you for my own.”

Just a swiftly as it began, he was getting to his feet and suggesting that they be alone after the competition for a few hours to really get to know one another.

It was all she could do not to cry as she looked up at him and smiled sweetly.

“As you wish, Phillip.”

“Are you alright?” he asked as if he hadn't just molested her.

“Absolutely,” she insisted lightly. “You just have me a little flushed I'm afraid.”

“I knew you liked it,” he chuckled. “Just finish up that box there, and I'll see you at suppertime.”

“Yes...sounds perfect,” she nodded.

He closed the door when he left and she sobbed softly into her hands for a moment. If his hand only moved down the other side of her dress she would be on her way to jail for theft and suspected treason. She was dancing among the flames carelessly and would have to get the stolen letters out of her possession and into the forest for safekeeping.

She'd have to wash thoroughly to get Phillip's touch off of her skin, but it would never leave her nightmares.

Thoughts of Daryl and meeting him later that evening was all that kept her from believing that the world was an ugly, cruel and worthless place.

She needed Daryl to reclaim her, to wash her in the river and make her clean again; only love could heal her now.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	11. Sanctuary

_ **^The Archer & The Widow - Chapter 11** _

_ **~ Sanctuary** _

 

Carol left earlier than midnight, she wanted to bury the letters before they were found by accident. The moon was hung high in the sky and it watched her sneaking through the woods to her man.

She placed the letters in a small tin and tied it with string to keep it closed. The letters were her insurance against Lord Phillip, should everything go south. Maybe she could find someone to deliver the letters to the king and all of her troubles would be over, but she needed to think more about it first. Carol considered asking Daryl but that could be dangerous too; it was a complicated problem and she was terrified of making the wrong choices.

She arrived at the magical spot by the river and used a flat stone to dig a hole just under the branches of the blueberry bush. She worked quickly and had it buried in just a few minutes then marked the spot with an unusual looking white stone.

Daryl's horse huffed as he approached, she smiled to herself and looked for him in the dark.

“There she is!” Daryl grinned. “The mother of my future children!”

He dismounted and pulled her into his arms without a moment's hesitation.

“I missed you,” she sighed, and it hit her so much harder than she expected.

The feeling of safety filled her immediately and she tried to hold back tears as she held on tightly to him.

“What's wrong, lass?” he asked, knowing instantly that something was off about her spirit.

“Nothing, my love....nothing.”

“You lie,” he answered, holding her out by the shoulders and scanning her face for the truth.

“It's too ugly to speak of.”

“It's Phillip then; it must have to do with him.”

“It does.”

“Tell me,” Daryl demanded.

“You must understand first that I do not have a say in this...or in anything to do with my own life. If Lord Phillip so wished it, I would be whisked away to a life of hard labor. He could make me disappear.”

“I know that. I'd never blame you for his actions.”

Carol shook her head and still didn't want to say it to him. Being with Daryl was always joyful and this would make their association troubled.

“Tell me.”

“He has his eyes on me, he is trying to take me for his own and the grass hasn't yet grown over his poor dead wife's grave. He is a monster,” she sobbed, finally succumbing under the weight of it.

“He touches you?” Daryl asked to clarify, not to accuse.

“He did today...and he has made me touch him before. I cannot say no to him, my love. If I do he could send me away and then I would never see you again...I couldn't risk that. My heart is yours, I swear it.”  
Daryl pulled her in close and insisted that she was mad to think he'd blame her for another person's crime.

“I know you're mine, Carol. Nothing will stop us, not least of which that pitiful rapist.”

“I'd never betray our love,” she repeated.

“I know that. Do what you must if it means your own safety and just know that you'll be free the moment I win this competition.”

“That's another thing,” she wept. “He is making me attend with him, in his dead wife's dress. My life is a waking nightmare!”

“Shhhh....hush now, lassy,” he cooed. “Shall I lay with you and make you forget your troubles for an hour?”

“You must. I need to feel better. Will you make me feel good, my man?”

He smirked like it was a ridiculous question and turned her around to begin on the endless row of buttons.

“When we're married, I'm buying you dresses with fewer buttons,” he grumbled.

Soon he was laying her dress over the back of his horse and she continued to uncover more and more of her skin for him.

When she finally dropped the last of her underthings to the grass below, he made the sign of the cross and eyed her hungrily.

“And now you,” she urged, and he approached her, yanking his tunic over his head.

“Are you in need of my cock, lass?” he teased.

“Yes. Claim me back as yours,” she sighed as he came in close and bit at her throat.

“No matter what he did to you, you'll always be mine. I'm sorry that he hurt you,” he whispered. “The moment I can, you'll be free of him and maybe I'll take you home to Ireland where you'll never see his face again.”

“But what about your business?” she asked.

“I only ever wanted a business to find a woman and be able to support a family...I can do that back home if I must.”

Carol slid her hands down the back of his unfastened trousers and squeezed his perfect ass in her hands greedily.

“I need you inside me, love.”

Daryl let her go long enough to spread the blanket from his saddlebag on the ground and then lay her down.

He stripped as he stood over her and she loved every inch of his body: the hard plains of his chest and belly, the trail of hair running from his navel to his perfect dick. No naked man had ever looked beautiful to her before but he was all things lovely in the whole world.

“Come to me,” she whispered as he knelt down between her opening legs.

/

Daryl felt hunger for her night and day when they were apart. It was so strong that when she was within arm's reach it was hard to show any restraint. He wanted to devour her whole and fuck her so hard she sobbed with pleasure but he knew that women needed more so more is what she would get.

He took both her breasts in his hands and kissed slowly from one to the other as she ran her fingers through his messy hair.

She dug her heels into the earth at the edge of the blanket in an effort to raise her hips up. He loved the way she impatiently sought out friction and she was going to get it.

Daryl licked her earlobe and teased her wetness with his throbbing dick as she whined beneath him.

“Please...” she whimpered.

Daryl didn't answer; he just reveled in her need for him.

He kissed down between her breasts and further toward her lower belly and by the time he reached the aching between her legs she was shivering with anticipation.

/

The way his wet tongue melted into the desire inside her was sin, beautiful unadulterated sin. Soft sucking and then rhythmic motion...she couldn't take it for long.

“You make me see stars,” she whined.

He moaned in response, and it tipped the scales of lust in his favor.

“Oh....oh Lord...Mmmm!” she panted as it flooded her.

Carol looked up to the heavens and her heart was filled with love, nothing but love. Daryl was the man she would have dreamed of, had she ever dared to dream.

She pulled him over her the moment that the bliss subsided and reached down to touch him. Carol urged him to full attention with her hand and kissed him hard. Nothing could ever take the place of his touch, his love, and the feeling that he gave her just by being close.

And then he was inside her, and the connection was so much more than sex.

“I'm going to save you,” he vowed as he thrust slowly, and intentionally into her.

“I know you will and I'll be fine until you do...I'll be OK.”

Harder and faster, the tension was building within him, and she loved the look on his face, so overcome and passionate.

He rolled onto his back, and she didn't want to admit she'd never done it that way, instead she guessed what to do.

Carol had never been the one in control of speed, depth or anything else, so it was foreign to her.

She rolled her hips and took him in then immediately repeated the motion.

She lay her hands on his chest and continued to fuck him in a steady, sleepy rhythm that was evidently pleasing him.

“Oh, lassy...that's so nice...fuck me good,” he groaned before pulling her breasts down to his mouth.

Carol soon found that with him inside her and his hands and mouth on her breasts, she was close again.

“Cum with me,” he said, holding her face in his hand and looking her right in the eye.

Carol just nodded and closed her eyes to take in every single sensation.

She could tell from his breathing and the way he moaned that he was close and with a little communication, the moment came and it seemed to seal their bond for all eternity.

“You there?”

“Oh god yes!”

She lay her hands on either side of his head and fucked him as hard as she could as her second peak hit and he'd never been handled so rough, so good. He filled her with an eruption of sexual fire that was primal and natural within the belly of the forest. The spot by the river was their home, and their sanctuary.

Carol collapsed on his chest, and they stayed still for as long as they could before getting up.

“You are my wife, Carol...isn't that so?” he asked softly and for the first time ever he appeared vulnerable. For that one moment there was no bravado, only love.

“Yes, Daryl, I am your wife and you are my husband. If we say these words to each other then who is anyone to argue with us? I am yours.”

He picked up the blanket from the ground and wrapped it around them both to hold her for a few more minutes knowing that parting would be painful.

They washed up in the river as though it was a baptism and kissed as many times as they could.

“Stay strong, lass, and just know that I won't fail you. Keep your eyes on your man in this competition and pray for my success.”

“I will, my love. I will think only of you and pray for you constantly.”

He smiled that gorgeous boyish smile for her and prepared to leave.

It was still two nights until the competition and she had to keep Phillip away from her somehow until she could be free, she had to think of something.

“Will this man be willing to part with you for the money he is owed?” Daryl questioned suddenly.

“I think so...how could I ever mean more to him than money? His own wife didn't matter more than that.”

Daryl appeared to be deep in thought as he dressed and prepared his horse; she wondered what he was thinking of until soon he spoke and revealed it all.

“Perhaps I should claim to be a distant relative. I could tell him that when I found you working for him at the tax meeting I decided to win your freedom. He may not want to let you go to another man if he believes it's romantic.”

Carol considered it and found it to be the plan with less risk, so she agreed.

“It would mean that we cannot stay here when I am free then, he would soon learn that we lied.”

“I'll take you away from here,” he stated plainly. “When I win, I will pay him the money and tell him I am your cousin.”

“You are clever, my love,” she grinned.

“We will say I am your mother's brother's son, remember that in case he asks you,” Daryl instructed.

“I will. I love you,” she whispered as he mounted his horse and let go of her hand.

“And I love you, always.”

 

 

 


	12. Stiff Competition

_ **The Archer & The Widow - Chapter 12** _

_ **~ Stiff Competition** _

 

Carol was up early on the morning of the competition and pacing the kitchen in agony. Her entire life depended on the outcome of the day's events.

“You have no choice but to go with him,” Lori sighed, pulling her down to sit in the kitchen chair. “Now sit still while I do your hair.”

Carol frowned and imagined Daryl seeing her sat next to Lord Phillip all day. The only bonus was that she'd be there to offer him moral support.

Daryl was like no man she'd ever met, and she knew that if anyone could pull off a miracle and release her, it was him.

Half of her hair was braided and twisted into a halo on top of her head, and the rest lay in ringlets around her shoulders.

Lori yanked her corset tight and then she was poured into Mary's dress, nothing felt right. The dress was layer upon layer of red silk and underskirts of crinoline, and she looked like a dream with her bosom held high, and waist pulled tight. It would be hell to sit in it all day, but it would achieve the desired effect of pleasing his lordship.

/

Daryl stretched and sauntered out the back of the fletcher's cabin to relieve himself that morning; he felt confident. Glenn was having a tizzy over the competition, but Daryl knew that he'd do his best and that he had practiced all a man could. If he didn't win, he'd go snatch his woman out of her bed and be off to Ireland before the end of the week. Nothing would stop him from having her, and he trusted his instincts.

He oiled his bow and prepared his arrows, Daryl was as ready as a man could be.

He ate a hearty breakfast and began to name his and Carol's yet to be conceived children in his head.

/

“Come along, Carol, the carriage is here.”

Carol stepped out the front door of the manor and took his hand as it was offered to her. She could almost taste her freedom already. Lord Phillip would happily hand her over for 30 pieces of silver, she was sure of it.

The entire village was alive with activity when they arrived, and she scanned the crowds for Daryl's face. It was impossible not to feel the excitement of the occasion; there was electricity in the air.

“Whoever wins this year will be allowed a meeting with the king himself,” Phillip whispered into her ear.

“Really?” she smiled. “That's quite a prize.”

“On top of the 50 pieces of silver, it certainly is! I hope my dark horse is triumphant today.”

“Who is your dark horse, Phillip?” she asked, hoping to broach the subject of her 'cousin' Daryl.

“The new fletcher...Dixon? I think that's his name.”

“Lord Phillip...I must tell you something about him.”

“What could you have to say about him?” he asked, looking confused.

“He is my cousin,” she said softly praying that he'd fall for it.

“Impossible, he's Irish,” Phillip laughed.

“So was my mother, Daryl is my mother's brother's son. When I saw him at the manor, I realized it was him although I have not seen him since he was a boy.”

“Well,” he said, looking at her strangely, “that is something isn't it?”

“Yes...I just thought I'd tell you,” she smiled sweetly.

“Do you think he'll win?” he asked, and she wasn't surprised to see he seemed more concerned about his bet than anything.

“To my knowledge, he is a fine archer,” she nodded.

/

Daryl looked fine, in his best white shirt and dark trousers. Carol tried hard not to pay any special attention to him; he was only her cousin after all.

Being the Lord of the land, Phillip was called to begin the competition and make an announcement.

Carol felt so ill to be looked at by everyone in the village. She was surely being seen as an opportunistic monster, weaseling in on a widower, it looked completely indecent, and she knew it, but she had no choice. She was seated atop a stage next to Phillip and felt so conspicuous it made her dizzy with anxiety.

Daryl's eyes met hers, and she nodded her head with a little smile for him and mouthed the words 'Good luck'.

“Archers! Ladies and Gentlemen! This is the day where the finest of our men compete for the highest honor of best archer in the land, and it is he who will be praised for the rest of the coming year. Whoever shall win this day will also have the great honor of a meeting with King Byron!”

The crowd erupted in applause and cheering and slowly subsided.

“As well as the 50 silver pieces, this man will surely have any woman he wishes and will not pay for a drink until the rapture!” Phillip joked and looked back at Carol who was clapping and smiling as was expected of her.

“May the events begin!” he hollered, and the men who were competing were gathered into groups for the first round.

The town square was set up with targets and obstacles, and the spectators were seething to see every last shot.

Carol sat back on her chair above the crowd and watched as the first group of men took aim at the first target. Each would get more and more challenging to weed out those who didn't measure up.

“So this cousin of yours...why did you not mention it to me earlier?” Phillip leaned in to ask her.

“I do not wish to trouble you with my family nonsense, my lord. You have been so good to me.”

He smiled and touched her face with a gentle pat that made her blood boil, but her expression never showed it. He had to think everything was fine, it was imperative.

/

A few men were knocked out of the first round already as Daryl approached the spot where he was to line up his shot.

The target was an image of the Devil, and he smirked at it as he imagined Phillip's face before him.

Daryl took a slow deep breath and drew the arrow back with confidence before firing it through the middle ring on the target. He was only a little off center, and it was more than enough to move him forward in the running.

He turned and nodded to Lord Phillip as all the other archers had done and he nodded back, happy to see his bet was paying off. Daryl kept his eyes off of Carol, a strategic move if ever there was one. She was only his 'cousin.'

The next round involved a hanging target of a smaller size and was to be fired at from a further distance.

Carol's hand was taken by Lord Phillip as the bowmen lined up to take their first shots. The master's bet was making him anxious, and he squeezed her hand every time an arrow left a bow.

“Your cousin had better be good.”

She nodded and looked on to the current archer taking aim. She was afraid to say too much about her 'cousin' and step on the landmine of her own lies.

Another man directly in front of Daryl in line missed the target and was cut from the running, and she watched as Daryl drew and arrow and then switched it for another. Perhaps he was superstitious or just had a finely tuned feel for arrows.

Phillip handed her a glass of wine, and she sipped it and never took her eyes from the action before her.

/

Daryl was a thinker and took his time lining up the shot, blocking out those around him and visualizing the desired result. It was always Phillip's face he imagined, and by round 4 it was still working for him. All the arrows had landed between the eyes of his adversary.

Daryl was left with six other men, and now the targets were moving. Each round took a long time because there were so many men and many targets had to be reset after each shot.

Daryl could feel the tension rising, and every time he looked over at Carol sitting next to her captor he grew more and more agitated. He decided to stop looking and just focus on the task at hand, too much of him wanted to run up on Lord Phillip and tear him limb from limb.

The moving targets were more challenging, and Daryl could see that he was up against the best of the best now.

/

Phillip was already counting his winnings as he watched the contest and bragging to Carol about his keen insight and excellent judgment.

“Your cousin will line my pockets this eve!” he boasted.

“You are a clever gambler, my lord,” she smiled.

Carol wrung her hands in agony as the contest became more heated.

Daryl was in the final 4, and she could taste her freedom only inches away from her.

She could see the tension building inside Daryl from across the town square, and she ached for him. Even if he lost she'd never want or love another man, he was her husband as far as she was concerned.

/

The last challenge saw one more man walk away and these were the finest bowmen in the area. Daryl could see the dejected archers staring daggers at him, an Irish stranger who was years younger than the rest of them.

He dusted his hands with dirt from the ground and prayed to God to send his arrows true and straight to the bull's eye.

He'd never wanted anything more than to take his love back to his little cabin to make love all night and then back home to Ireland.

Daryl had to hit target swinging on a rope a good 200 feet away, and he began to question his skills. It was an impossibly small target, no bigger than a shield.

The man in front of him grazed the target but didn't stick the arrow and growled in anger as he was dismissed. Only two men stood between him and the 50 pieces of silver now.

/

Carol couldn't take it anymore and closed her eyes as the two men before Daryl tried for the last target.

She heard the last arrow hit something and stared in disbelief as the arrow swung, impaled in the target.

“Damn it!” Phillip huffed.

It was strange to be cheering on the same man as Phillip but for completely different reasons.

Daryl stood on the line to take his shot and knew that of he hit this one he'd be in the final round with the best bowman he'd ever seen.

He looked down at the ground for a moment and then up at the sky.

“Please, Lord,” he whispered, and as he pulled back his bowstring, he thought of Carol saying that she loved him and that he was her husband. He had to do this; he had to free his love.

/

The release of the tension cut through the air and seared straight into Carol's heart; her future was resting on this one shot.

As the arrow landed smack in the center of the target, Carol yelped in excitement against her own good judgment.

“Your bet is paying off, my lord!” she added to her outburst quickly to ensure that Phillip believed her excitement was all for him.

“One more round and I'll be an even richer man!” he smirked. “You're a good luck charm, my dear.”

/

The final round was to be on horseback and Daryl was instructed to retrieve his horse.

Down the main road into town and taking out a simple bag of grain sat on a stump, it was a ridiculous shot, and he wasn't one for shooting on horseback.

Daryl shook his head and growled under his breath that he hadn't been told about mounted shooting.

Glenn helped him saddle his horse and insisted he'd never heard of this type of shooting in the competition before.

“They've never gotten to this round before, though. No two men have ever lasted so long.”

“I'm going to lose now!” Daryl huffed. “I can't hit that bag from atop a beast riding at full clip! This is madness!”

“Hey! Enough of that!” Glenn argued, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. “All I've heard about since you lay eyes on that woman is how she's going to be yours. Did you mean that?”

“Of course I did! But this shot-”

“You can do this if you believe you can and that woman is counting on you!”

“I know.”

“Just lean back in the saddle as you line up your shot, keep the reins wrapped around your left forearm to control the horse and get your mind focused!”

“Yes,” Daryl nodded, steeling himself for what was to come. “Thank you, friend. I'm alright now.”

“Good, let's go!” Glenn cheered, smacking him on the back with pride.

/

Carol restrained her nerves as best she could and downed her wine with ease to assist in the process.

“Easy, Carol. You'll need carrying home after this.”

“My apologies,” she nodded.

“I only jest,” Phillip smiled.

Carol prayed that she'd only be going 'home' to retrieve her belongings and that she'd be with Daryl that very evening.

The man Daryl was up against went first, and he was a worthy adversary. The word that Carol heard around her was that this man had won twice before and was the son of the fletcher who had passed away, leaving the post open for Glenn and Daryl.

He came flying down the main road on a black horse that was twice the size of Daryl's white mare. The spectators on either side of the road were silent in hushed anticipation.

He drew his bow and held the shot true as he fired.

Carol closed her eyes and almost wept, there was no way this man would miss.

An uproar of boos rose up from the crowd below her, and she slowly opened her eyes to see the bag untouched on the stump.

Her hands were shaking now, and she slipped them under her thighs to hide her emotions.

“Look! He's missed it!” Phillip whooped at the top of his voice. “My dark horse is set to win this now!”

Carol watched with baited breath as the signal was given to Daryl far down the road to begin his descent down the path.

The white horse road fearlessly between the rows of onlookers and toward the stump.

The reins were wrapped around his strong forearm, and he leaned back slightly as he raised the bow and fired strong and true at the bag on the stump.

An audible gasp struck the crowd, and then complete mayhem overtook the town as cheers and hollering became deafening to the ear.

“YES!” Phillip roared as he got to his feet and punched the air with his fist. “Your cousin has done it!”

Carol couldn't help but cry a few tears in relief and excitement. Her man had accomplished the near impossible and defeated men with twice his experience and won her freedom.

There was a whirlwind of activity and motion then as Daryl was hoisted up on the shoulders of men who were praising him as champion.

Women were gathering around to see the new eligible bachelor who would be most desired in the village and Carol smiled, knowing that he was only hers.

“I'm having him over to the manor this eve!” Phillip beamed. “We'll have the finest dinner in all the land and drink the best of the brandy and mead!”  
Carol wondered if then would be the time that they'd discuss her release.

/

Daryl was eventually led to the stage were Lord Phillip, and Carol were seated to receive his prize and to be praised some more.

“Congratulations, son!” Phillip cheered, holding up Daryl's arm for all to see the new champion. “This right here is the best of the best and the worthy recipient of the grand prize!”

Lord Phillip handed over the silver to Daryl, knowing he'd be making his own fair share of profit from his high stakes bet.

Daryl smiled and couldn't wait to hand almost all of the money back in exchange for his one true love.

“You must be my honored guest this evening; I'll not take no for an answer!” Phillip insisted, patting Daryl on the back.

“I will, my lord, thank you very much,” Daryl nodded, playing along for the time being. Lord Phillip's manor was a better place to discuss Carol's release surely; it would be a difficult conversation.

“No, thank you!” Phillip laughed heartily. “You've made me an even richer man today with your incredible skill.”

Phillip pulled Daryl in close then and whispered into his ear something very strange, and it gave Daryl chills.

“I may just have another job for a man with your skills...you may be very useful to me after all.”

 

 

 


	13. A Second Hurdle

_ **The Archer & The Widow - Chapter 13** _

_ **~ A Second Hurdle** _

 

Carol rode back to the manor in the carriage between Daryl and Phillip and felt as though she'd slipped through sanity itself into a world of madness.

“So, you two are cousins,” Phillip began, lighting his pipe and looking at them both quizzically.

“Indeed,” Daryl nodded. “We weren't especially close growing up, but she is my cousin.”

“Your father was... how did that go again?” Phillip asked as if testing them.

“My father was her mother's brother,” Daryl answered casually without hesitation.

It seemed to be enough for Phillip then, and he went on and on about his winnings until they arrived at the manor.

Carol was led to the dining room she normally served food in and was seated next to Phillip and across the table from Daryl.

Dale entered to ask what he could prepare for them.

Phillip requested the best of the meat they had, the finest spirits, and a tray of cigars and fresh pipe tobacco.

Carol felt it was so wrong to be sitting and to be served by her friends; she couldn't wait to be free of the whole mess.

“What a day!” Phillip exclaimed, still excited from his win. “Tell me, Daryl, did you have doubts?”

He lay his hand on Carol's, and she bit her lip, determined to act casually while everything was still not quite settled.

“I wasn't so sure I had it in me to beat that last man, he was a worthy opponent,” he confessed honestly.

“You are a fine bowman, sir,” Phillip nodded.

“Thank you, my lord.”

Lori entered the room to serve food within the next half hour, and Carol looked at her with apologetic eyes, wishing she wasn't sitting where she was.

Lori lay her hand on her shoulder as she filled her wine glass and squeezed gently.

Carol ate the food she was served and stole glances at Daryl as he ate in uncomfortable silence as well.

After dinner, Carol was excused in the same fashion that Lord Phillip used to dismiss Mary.

She curtsied politely to them both and was pulled down to Phillip for a kiss.

“Now a kiss for your cousin, the champion!” Phillip insisted, and she wondered if it was a test.

Carol walked around the table to Daryl and lay an innocent kiss upon his cheek as she offered her congratulations on his win.

“She is something else, your cousin,” Phillip beamed with pride.

“Indeed, she is very special.”

"Goodnight, dear," Phillip said to her.

“Goodnight, gentlemen.”

/

Carol made it to the kitchen and collapsed with a release of tension that had been mounting since she awoke.

“You have survived the day!” Shane grinned.

“Only just barely, my friend....I have something I must confess to you all,” she sighed.

Lori and Shane sat at the table next to her to listen and were surprised to learn that Carol would have any secrets.

Now that she'd be going free, they ought to know that she'd be leaving soon.

“The man who won the competition today...he is my love.”

“Since when?” Lori exclaimed.

“Only just recently but it's such a sin in this house for me to have eyes for anyone else I was afraid to even speak of it.”

“He's in there speaking with Lord Phillip who believes he's your cousin! Carol, you are playing with fire,” Lori winced.

“I know. Daryl has the money from the competition now and wished to purchase my freedom, but he had to say we are related. The master would not just hand me over to another man.”

“That's wise,” Shane agreed. “The master is set on you; I'm not sure he'd hand you over to even your cousin.”

“It's the best hope we have anyway,” Carol shrugged.

Dale sat in the corner quietly panicking about the goings on in the manor and praying that none of the young people he cared for would become tangled in the web of lies.

/

“Sit, my young friend,” Phillip began, leading Daryl into his office to be alone.

“Thank you.”

Daryl had an eerie feeling about the conversation ahead, and the look in Phillip's eyes had changed the moment the door closed.

“I'm going to get right to the point, Daryl. I'm not backward about being forward if you know what I mean.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“I want you to undertake a diabolical task, and it's not for the faint of heart.”

“Go on,” Daryl said, although he really didn't want to know. He didn't want to do anything for this man, but he was about to ask for Carol's freedom, so he had no choice but to play ball.

“I want the king taken out, and I want you to do it for me.”

Daryl couldn't believe what he was hearing.

“But why?”

“He is not the great leader people think he is, the man is clueless, and if he isn't taken out, there will be all out mutiny on behalf of the landlords in the region. Taxation needs to be a matter of the people, not the ruling class....anyway, this is none of your concern, is it?”

“Not really.”

“The thing is, Daryl, I need a man with skills such as yours to carry out this task from a fair distance. I need it done clean and fast.”

“I'm not a killer,” Daryl argued, shaking his head in disbelief. “I'm a man of God, my lord.”

“Every man has a price, just tell me yours.”

Daryl could see that this was the penalty for his love and that he'd have no choice in the matter if Carol was to go free.

“I want my cousin freed from your household.”

“We both know that woman is not your cousin, Daryl.”

Daryl swallowed hard, and his hands began to shake, he was in deep and floundering by the second.

“I...she...” he stuttered.

“Are you fucking my sweet Carol?” Phillip grinned.

“Sir...”

“It's alright, Daryl. The thing is, though, I have my eye on her as well, and I won't just hand her over without something in return.”

“What if I handed over the money?” Daryl asked. “Every last piece of silver.”

“As tempting as that is, if Byron is dealt with then I'll have more silver than I could possibly ask for, I would be king. If I were king I could make life very sweet for you and Carol too,” he winked.

“This is madness,” Daryl sighed shaking his head.

“I'll make this very simple for you, shall I? You take care of the king when you go up to meet him, and I'll ensure that you are never so much as questioned about it. You come back here and take Carol for your own, and I'll see to it that you both live on easy street for the rest of your days.”

Daryl frowned under the crushing weight of the trap he was ensnared in.

“Or,” Phillip continued, relighting his pipe with a match, “you say no and I spend the rest of my days with your woman underneath me.”

“No!”

“Well then?”

“You have a deal,” Daryl said, reaching out his hand to shake on it.

“I thought you'd see it my way.”

“I have no choice.”

“And before you think of running off with her, just know that she'll be kept protected and will not be seeing you until the job is done.”

“How did you know?” Daryl asked.

He was furious but he was beaten at his own game, and there was no point screaming over it now, that could wait.

“I could see it in her eyes, and yours. People think I'm a fool and I was for a while. I thought I could make her warm up to me, but it wasn't to be. The thing is that I'll happily keep her for my own against her will if you fail me. I will either be king or I will keep her for myself, it's up to you, Daryl.”

“You will be king, my lord.”

/

Carol was sat in her quarters and awaiting word until very late when a knock at her door startled her out of her skin.

She opened the door to find Lord Phillip grinning at her maniacally.

“Lord Phillip,” she said softly.

She was standing in her evening gown and terrified of the look on his face.

“So, I've had the most interesting chat with your cousin this evening and don't worry your sweet little head; he did not reveal your secret.”

“Secret?” she asked.

A sinking feeling was creeping over her heart, and she dreaded the rest of the conversation.

“I'm not simple-minded, Carol. I can see that this man has known you. I'm insulted that you'd attempt to dupe me this way after all I've done for you!”

“I'm so sorry, my lord,” she cried, dropping to her knees to beg his forgiveness fearing that he was having Daryl killed as she spoke.

“Calm yourself, woman! I have sent him on a mission for me, and if he succeeds then you can go with him, if not you'll stay here with me. Make no mistake, though, until he has performed this task I'll not have you running off.”

“But-” she began, wondering what he meant.

“You're going to be staying in a new room...up in the tower,” he grinned. “You will not be running away with him, not until I get what I want.”

“Sir, please...I beg of you!” she pleaded.

“I'll not be swayed by whining and pleading, Carol, not now.”

Phillip grabbed her by the wrist then and dragged her up to a room in the tower with a padlock on the door, and she sobbed all the way there.

“Please, my lord...don't leave me here alone...please!”

“I cared for you! I wanted you, and you fooled me....if you want to leave me then you'll both pay first! I will not be walked on, Carol!”

“I'm so sorry!” she cried as he slammed the door shut and locked it behind him.

“You'll be fed and cared for, I'm not a complete monster, but you are my insurance now. If Daryl wants to see you again, he will play by my rules!”

Carol pressed her face to the door and cried as she'd never cried before. She knew what Phillip had asked Daryl to do; it was obvious he was being sent to kill the king. Such an attempt could see Daryl on the gallows, and she'd never forgive herself as long as she lived.

“I could have loved you, Carol...I'm a proud man, and you have made me look a fool.”

“I never meant to, my lord.”

“I believe that you didn't mean to, but you did all the same. Just pray now that your man will do what he must to free you, or you will be mine.”

Phillip's voice through the door made her seethe with rage, but she was trapped more than she'd ever seen coming and it was absolutely hopeless.

“He will do what you ask, and he will free me,” she growled, she couldn't pretend anymore that she didn't hate him.

“We will see, won't we.”

Only when Carol was trapped did she realize that she forgot to tell Dale where the letters were...the letters were her only hope.

 

 


	14. No Other Way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter chapter just to set up the next set of events:)   
> Posting tomorrow as well (should be daily from here on)  
> Thanks for reading. xoxo

_ **(The Archer & The Widow - Chapter 14** _

_ **~ No Other Way** _

  
“I'll kill him! I'll tear him limb from limb and feed him to dogs! His own mother won't recognize him when I'm through!” Daryl raged all over the fletcher's cabin as Glenn sympathized.

“I can't even think what to tell you, Daryl. Lord Phillip is a madman.”

“He's keeping her locked up! What the hell am I supposed to do?” Daryl growled. “I offered him the entire 50 pieces of silver, and he wants the whole god damn kingdom!”

The only answer was for Daryl to do as he was told if he wanted Carol to be free. Phillip said that Dale would be taking him in his carriage to the castle in a couple of days, but Daryl couldn't imagine actually killing a man unless it was self-defense. Daryl was a peaceful man, and it went against everything he believed in. All he wanted from life was to have Carol for himself and to raise a family; he didn't want any of this mess.

He was supposed to kill the king in his private garden after the meeting when he was alone...it was a ridiculous idea Daryl had ever heard. He would be strung up by his throat before the sun went down surely.

/

Carol sobbed in the corner of the small room that was now her prison, and she prayed that Daryl would just forget her and move on with life. The idea that he might attempt to take the king's  life and likely be executed for it was too much for her to bear.

Carol loved Daryl already more than she cared for herself and she couldn't stand the idea that he would be put in danger.

None of her friends came to her room, and she presumed that they weren't allowed to. If she could just speak to Dale, she could tell him to get the letters from under the blueberry bush. Carol kicked herself for forgetting to tell him the location. Daryl could use the letters to clear his name and to condemn Lord Phillip if only he knew of their existence.

A day passed, and Carol could still feel Daryl's hands on her skin and hear his voice in her memory telling her that she was his wife and she ached like she never imagined possible.

/

“What can we do?” Lori exclaimed. “There has to be a way!”

“Phillip won't allow us up there; he knows we're all thick as thieves. It turns out he's not half as dim as we thought,” Shane sighed.

“There's so much more to all of this, and you both need to know,” Dale shuddered.

“What is it?” Shane asked.

“Lord Phillip wants the king dead, and he's going to try and get Daryl to do it for him...he's trying to overthrow King Byron.”

Lori looked around them although she knew they were alone, saying such things could land a person in deep trouble.

“Phillip wants me to take Daryl to the king in a couple of days for the visit, and I don't know how to help the boy. He loves Carol and won't see her trapped here forever; he'll try to obey Phillip's orders...it's a disaster.”

“You need to get to Carol,” Lori said. “Someone has to talk to her, and it has to be you.”

“I'm going to try, but Phillip is guarding her like a hawk.”

“Perhaps I can distract him,” Lori suggested.

“No! You're not getting caught in his web,” Shane interrupted. “I'll get him out of the manor in the morning, I'll think of something.”

“Great,” Dale nodded. “You keep him busy, and I'll get to her and see if we can come up with a plan.”

/

Daryl was alone that night with his thoughts and Glenn could feel how much he was hurting.

“This is very unfair, my friend,” he said, patting his shoulder and knowing he couldn't make it better for him.

“I just wanted to love her, Glenn. I was such a fool to think that I could save her...I made her trust me with her freedom.”

“You can still do this, Daryl,” Glenn insisted.

“I don't know that I can kill the king. I don't want to hurt anyone; it's not who I am. I'd kill anyone to protect her if they meant her direct harm, but this isn't that type of killing. King Byron is an innocent man.”

“I wish there was another way.”

“I promised her that we'd be together. I told her so many things that I cannot fulfill now...she'll hate me if I don't do this for her.”

“That woman would never hate you, Daryl.”

For the first time since he was a child, Daryl broke down and couldn't keep his composure.

“I want her so badly, Glenn. I can see my entire life with her every time I look into her eyes. Now I must kill to protect her from that monster. I cannot allow Phillip to take her as his wife; I believe she'd rather die.”

“There has to be another way.”

“There isn't. What's worse is that even if I get away with this crime, I won't be worthy of her love anymore. This act will make me a monster as well.”

/

Carol looked up at the moon that night through the tiny window over her head and wanted to believe Daryl was looking at it too, right at the same moment.

She smiled when she remembered his kiss and his laugh; sweet memories would have to sustain her since it's all she had left.

There was a knock at the door, but she didn't answer.

Phillip would be bringing her more food, but she refused to eat.

Phillip entered the room after removing the lock and looked down at the tray he'd left her earlier, yet untouched.

“You're going to starve yourself for him?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“You're a fool.”

“Perhaps.”

“Why did it have to be him?” Phillip asked in a soft voice.

“It wasn't a choice; it was fate.”

“Now I know you're a fool,” he scoffed.

“No matter what you do to me, I belong to him, and he belongs to me. Until I breathe my last breath, Daryl Dixon is my man. Kill me if you must.”

  
  


 

 


	15. I Bring News

_ **The Archer & The Widow - Chapter 15** _

_ **~ I Bring News** _

 

The manor was tense, and the staff were trying as best they could to keep up appearances.

Shane ventured to the master's quarters with a story about one of his animals requiring a vet.

One of the few things Phillip did care for that Shane could use to get his attention were his horses.

“What's wrong with it?” Phillip huffed.

“I'm not sure, my lord. Perhaps if you were to come and have a look,” Shane suggested.

“Fine, but it must be quick, I have things to tend to.”

“Of course.”

Dale saw them outside in the yard walking toward the barn and he ran fast as he could into the main house. He wouldn't have long to talk to Carol, but it was crucial that he did. He arrived at the staircase to the tower and his heart beat rapidly deep in his chest making him feel faint. Dale didn't disobey the master when he could help it. When he knocked on the door he received no answer so he identified himself.

“Carol! It's me!” he called through the door.

“Dale?”

He was relieved to hear her voice and touched the door, knowing she was probably doing the same.

“What can I do to help you, my child?”

“Listen to me, Dale! There are two letters buried beneath a strange looking white rock near the river, just under the branches of the wild blueberry bush.”

He grinned and told her he'd go to retrieve them.

“The letters will help you to convince the king that Phillip is trouble...they are damning,” she informed him. “Tell Daryl not to kill to save me, it's not who he is. Tell him I love him and that my love will never change no matter what happens.”

“I will, my child. I will do as you ask.”

“Now go before you are caught here speaking to me. I love you, Dale.”

“And I love you, my dear.”

With that, Dale raced back down the stairs and then down to the main level. When he ran into Phillip in the main entrance he claimed that he was only gathering the linens from the laundry basket for Lori to wash.

“I sure hope so,” Phillip said, eyeing him with suspicion. “I don't think you'd betray me and speak to Carol.”

“No, Sir, I'd never do that.”

“Good. If I found that you were communicating with her against my wishes, I'd have you sent down to hard labor before you could blink.”

“Yes, my lord. I would never betray you.”

“You better not,” he growled.

/

The next day Dale was meant to take Daryl to the palace to carry out the evil deed but when the sun went down, Dale began his preparations to unravel the plan.

He waited until the master was asleep before taking a horse and sneaking out to dig up the letters. He loved that Carol had been so clever and industrious, she was so much wiser than she probably gave herself credit for.

The woods were foreboding and black that night but he was excited to be doing a deed in the name of true love. He wanted Carol and Daryl to be reunited as though Carol were his own daughter, her happiness was everything to him.

When he got to the spot she'd spoken about he searched the darkness for a 'strange looking white rock” and spotted it swiftly. Soon the tin was in his hands and he knelt on the ground untying the string.

The letters were damning indeed and he couldn't help his excitement as he pushed the tin inside his coat pocket. It was then that he decided to go directly to Daryl's home, the letters were not safe in his own possession.

/

Glenn tried to get Daryl to slow down with the drink but he was in a dark state. Daryl was dreading the next day and the helplessness of not being able to rescue Carol was eating him alive.

He slouched in the corner of the room on a wooden chair with a large mug of ale and was rambling almost incoherently about how he wanted to take her home to Ireland and have a hundred babies.

“You are beyond the beyonds, my friend,” Glenn sighed.

It was agonizing to see him in such a state, but it was a welcome reprieve from the raging and growling.

When the knock came upon their door at such a late hour, Glenn almost didn't want to answer.

“Daryl?” a voice called. “Daryl Dixon? I bring news from your woman.”

Daryl shot up like a bolt and stumbled to the door and near tore it from its hinges.

“Get in here! What's the word?” he begged.

“She is OK. She sent me to retrieve some letters she took from Lord Phillip and the letters reveal everything that the master is up to.”

“Good God! That's fantastic!” Daryl yelled, grabbing Dale by his shoulders and shaking him violently.

“Calm yourself, son! This is hardly over yet!” Dale laughed.

They were not out of the woods, but it was nice to see a smile on the young man's face.

“What do I do? Tell me what to do next,” Daryl pleaded.

“I think the simplest way is just, to be honest with the king; it's the only card we can play,” Dale suggested.

“Is there any risk?” Glenn inquired.

“There is always risk but I think the risk of telling him his brother is a traitor is less than trying to kill him,” he chuckled.

“How did I wind up in this mess simply by falling in love?” Daryl mused.

“Is it worth it to you?” Dale asked.

“There is no question. Carol means everything to me, everything. I'm suffering under the weight of this...that's true, but I will not stop until she is free.”

“You are a good man, Daryl. I will stand by your side in this fight. Carol also means the world to me. I lost my family, so she is all I have now.”

“I will fight along side you as well, brother,” Glenn chimed in. “We cannot fail with in righteous cause.”

The next day was discussed at length before Dale had to get back to the manor.

He returned under the cover of night and to his relief it didn't appear that Phillip noticed him leaving. He lay on his bed with the comfort of knowing that Daryl had the letters and that the next day they would be on their way.

Meeting with royalty was a nerve wracking notion but Dale had faith that King Byron would see that Daryl's heart was true and that he'd be able to see that the letters were genuine.

Lord Phillip wouldn't risk leaving Carol unattended so he was staying behind to keep watch over her like a gargoyle. Dale, Daryl and Glenn would leave early the very next morning to meet the king and right some wrongs. Hope was alive and well, if only the seemingly endless obstacles would refrain from attempting to stop them in their pursuit.

 

 

 


	16. Handmaidens

_ **The Archer & The Widow - Chapter 16** _

_ **~ Handmaidens** _

Glenn stood at the window and watched as gray clouds filled the sky as well as his thoughts. Daryl was still snoring on his bunk, and Glenn feared for how the plan would unfold. He had wished for Daryl to walk away from Carol in the beginning, but he saw it now; he saw how much they loved each other.

He gathered what they needed for the trip and roused Daryl from his slumber to eat and get ready to leave.

“Today is the day,” Daryl yawned as he stretched and sat up.

“I know nothing of the king, but I pray he's a reasonable man,” Glenn sighed.

“With a brother like Lord Phillip it's hard to imagine him being sane in any fashion,” Daryl grumbled.

Glenn cooked oats on the fire and made some strong coffee, and within the hour Dale arrived.

“Any news from Carol?” Daryl asked anxiously. “Were you able to see her again?”

“No, son. Nobody is being allowed near her, not even Lori,” Dale answered. “I don't believe she's in immediate danger of harm right now. You need to think of this meeting with the king I'm afraid.”

“I'm such a simple, common man,” Daryl sighed. “I never imagined I'd ever speak to a king.”

“We better head out, lads,” Glenn called from the door.

/

The roads were mostly gravel and only an hour after setting out it began to rain.

“What a perfect day for this trip,” Daryl said anxiously.

There was so much at stake, and he dreaded facing someone with so much power, he didn't know how to speak to such a man. In the woods, he was his own man, and all that mattered is what he was capable of doing to survive. He was one with the trees, the water, and the animals and he respected all that surrounded him. Daryl felt gratitude for the animals he felled, and it was a harmonious life. It seemed apparent, though, that to have a family he'd need to be like everyone else.

“Do you know anything about addressing people of this standing?” Dale asked Daryl as they rode.

“Not a damn thing.”

“You must bow when approaching him, this is a casual congratulatory meeting, and he knows you're a commoner, so he won't be expecting perfection,” Dale explained.

“It's like they're letting a mongrel in the castle or something,” Daryl huffed.

“That sounds about right,” Glenn laughed.

“Shut it, you!”

After hours of travel with only Carol on his mind, they arrived at the castle and were met with rows of guards at the gates.

“Fuck me!” Daryl hissed.

“Hush, son. Follow my lead!” Dale reprimanded.

Dale dismounted and bowed to the head of the guards then explained their presence. They were led through the gates and brought in through the grand entrance where Daryl looked around him in awe.

The opulence gave him chills and also made him a little angry. There were so many struggling around him, so many who didn't have enough to eat and here was a man with so much to spare.

“Good evening, gentleman, my name is Withers.”

A man startled them when he approached from behind and introduced himself as the king's personal attendant.

“King Byron has asked that you be met with appropriate hospitality before lunch is served.”

A small group of women walked up to Daryl who was so confused that he stepped back away from them.

“Please, sir,” Withers smiled. “You are our honored guest. The king's own handmaidens will take you and your men to private quarters to wash and dress for your meeting.”

“I'm already dressed,” Daryl answered, feeling the eyes of the strange women upon him.

Dale turned around and glared at him to shut his mouth and so he did.

The women walked them to a few private rooms where they separated and began to tend to the men separately.

“What's all this in aid of?” Daryl asked, pushing Dale away from the group of smiling women to talk.

“You're just receiving the royal treatment as the king's guest, just go along with it.”

“What are they doing here if I'm meant to change my clothes?” he demanded.

“That's what they're here to help you with.”

“I'm a grown man! I don't need help with such things!”

“Are you shy?” Dale chuckled. “This is just how things are done here.”

“Damn it!”

Daryl was taken to a room with a huge copper tub of steamy water, and a woman with green eyes and dark hair began to unbutton his shirt.

“Hey! Wait! I got it.”

A blonde woman approached him then, insisting they were supposed to assist him.

“I ain't showing either of you my tackle, just grab me a towel and turn around,” he huffed.

They giggled and handed him a towel before turning around to face the door.

“Better.”

Daryl wondered how Glenn was enjoying the 'royal' treatment.

/

“More grapes, sir?”

“Sure! Yeah!”

Glenn lay back in the hot tub as a beautiful young woman ran a soapy sponge down his chest, and the other fed him grapes.

“This is the life,” he groaned. “What are your names?”

“I'm Maggie, and that's Jacqui,” the woman with beautiful auburn hair responded.

“Is this job terrible?” he teased.

“It's not bad at all,” she winked.

“Really?”

There was something a little suggestive in her eyes, and he liked her in a heartbeat.

“I'm quite enjoying my job right now,” she added, her eyes scanning down his body to the semi-hidden parts beneath the water.

/

Daryl scrubbed his body and kept looking over to make sure the women were still facing the door.

“Where can I shave?” he asked. “I presume I'm supposed to shave.”

“In the bathroom through those doors,” one answered him, turning to point.

“Eyes front. Only one woman sees my business and it ain't you.”

The women giggled again, and he instructed them not to touch his belongings while he was shaving.

“Yes, sir.”

/

When he finished shaving his face, he was left standing before a huge mirror with gold trim around the frame and looking at the lost man before him.

Daryl remembered the way Carol felt in his arms and the way she looked the first time he saw her. Her blue eyes had followed him as she picked the berries and he felt alive and virile. He had wanted her instantly.

The kind of love that could strike you like lightning was not something he'd always believed in but what he felt for her was just that. Hot, dangerous and powerful love that struck him out of nowhere and rendered him helpless from the first moment.

Daryl imagined seeing her face again, holding her, making love to her and he almost wept. If he failed at this, she'd be doomed to a life of misery with a man she hated.

He dressed in the ridiculous clothes the women had given him, and when he stepped out into the main room, one of them offered to tie his tie properly for him.

“Fine,” he answered dryly, but then he noticed that his clothing was gone. “Where are my clothes?”

“Maggie took them to be laundered, Sir. They'll be returned to you before you leave.”

“I need my clothes! Get them back now! Where is this Maggie you speak of?”

The letters were in the tin in his coat pocket, and he was immediately losing it. Without the letters, his only other option was murder.

  
  


  
  


  
  


 


	17. Longing In The Dark

_**The Archer & The Widow - Chapter 17** _

_ **~ Longing in the Dark** _

“My lord, please just tell me...is she alright?” Dale pleaded.

“She is fine. Carol will be fed and warm, but she is no longer your concern.”

Phillip wasn't telling Dale, Shane or Lori anything about Carol beyond the fact that she was safe. None of them knew for sure if that was true, nobody actually trusted Lord Phillip.

Dale loved Carol like his own daughter and felt responsible for everything that happened to her. He couldn't save his own wife and daughter when childbirth took the first, and a flu epidemic took the other. Dale wanted desperately to save Carol and hoped that in passing along the letters to Daryl, he could be a part of that. Lori and Shane living under the thumb of Lord Phillip bothered him as well, but at least they had each other. Nothing about the system they lived in was fair or just, and it troubled him constantly. He just wanted to hear Carol's voice again.

/

Carol paced back and forth, thinking of Daryl and the way he looked at her. His eyes didn't see a prisoner, he saw his future wife and the mother of his children, and she loved that. The longing she felt in her heart was like dying inside over and over. _Why had he been sent to her only for it to end this way? Would she ever see his face again? Was he safe?_

The questions spun round in her head until tears began to flow and she was blinded by pain and need.

/

Daryl burst into the room where Glenn was laying back and eating grapes in the company of the two young handmaidens.

“Glenn! God Damn it! I lost the papers from my coat!”

“What? How?”

“One of these wenches has run off with my clothes to wash!”

“That was me, Sir. I didn't know there was anything in the pockets. I do apologize.”

“I need it back, Miss! It's a matter of life and death!” Daryl pleaded with her.

“I'll run and see if I can grab it before it reaches the wash area.”

“Run, Miss, please!” Daryl urged, nearly pushing her out the door.

Withers came to collect them for lunch with the king before they could get the letters back and Daryl was losing his mind. Without the letters, his hands would be bloodied by the murder of an innocent man. There was no way he'd stand by as Carol was taken as Phillip's wife, he had so few options. Keeping the king waiting was not an option, so they were ushered to the garden for a casual lunch, as casual as lunch with royalty could be anyway.

Daryl was seated near the head of the table and Glenn next to him. Dale had expected to be serving, but Withers explained that the king would receive him as a guest as he had more than enough servants of his own.

“Introducing His Royal Highness King Byron!” Withers bellowed as the man himself came walking down the path of the garden to the patio.

A huge feast was served upon a long table, and Daryl only dreamed of being in the forest again, making love to Carol. He wanted no part of this diabolical plot; he just wanted to be a free man and to be with the woman he loved.

Still, he had no choice, so he stood and bowed to the king and was instructed when to sit again.

/

Glenn knew that Daryl couldn't leave the table, he was expected to stay and hold a conversation with the king while Glenn himself was only an extra in the situation.

The conversation began awkwardly between royalty and commoner, and he could see that Daryl was sweating through his shirt. All Daryl could think of was getting the letters back, it was written all over his face.

Glenn began to wipe his brow and claimed that the sun was bothering him and that he had been ill earlier.

“May I assist you?” Withers asked, tending to him as a royal guest.

“I think I just need some water; perhaps I could find the handmaiden I saw earlier?”

“Maggie will be in the west wing, I would come with you, but I am needed here,” Withers explained, pointing him in the right direction.

Glenn excused himself and found that the king was quite friendly and didn't fuss about him leaving the table.

/

“I hear you are a fine young archer and fletcher, Mr. Dixon,” King Byron praised.

“I do my best, Your Majesty.”

“My brother says you're very modest.”

“Does he?”

“Indeed, he said you didn't appear even to be aware of how talented you were.”

Daryl tried not to feel good about a compliment from someone he hated so much; all it took was remembering the peril Carol was in.

Nothing was about to distract him from his task, which at the moment looked like murdering the most important man in all the land.

/

“Maggie....Maggie...” Glenn called for Maggie in the servant's quarters of the west wing and was afraid he'd never find her.

The king had so many handmaidens, and all were dressed the same, all so similar save for Maggie's eyes which were the prettiest shade of green he'd ever seen.

After ten minutes of wandering and calling she finally appeared from down a corridor.

“The papers! Did you find them?”

“We need to distract the laundress; she never allows anyone in there.”

“Damn it! Let's go give it a shot anyway; it's the only chance we have.”

Glenn followed her to the laundry chamber and was eager to get the letters back in his hand sooner than later, he was becoming desperate to get out of there.

Maggie and Glenn peered around the stone wall into the chamber where a rotund woman in her 50s was stirring a cauldron of steaming water to soak the king's shirts.

“How do we distract her?” Glenn whispered.

“I think I know...but you'll have to go alone.”

“Why?”

“She likes men. Agatha despises me and all the other handmaidens and barks orders at us all day, but she loves men...if you catch my drift.”

“Really?”

“Hurry! I see your friend's coat on the pile right there; soon it will be submerged,” she insisted.

Glenn winced and had no idea how to proceed, but he had to help Daryl. Daryl was the best friend he'd ever had, and this mission was also in the name of true love. He stood then, and Maggie took a step back into the shadows to observe from an unseen vantage point.

“Madam?” he uttered, trying to attract the attention of the woman holding a giant wooden stick to stir the water.

“Who are you?” she demanded, looking him up and down. “You aren't supposed to be here.”

“I apologize, my dear,” he said, hoping she wouldn't slug him for his ham-fisted flirting. “I am just lost...but what a happy accident it is to find you here.”

“You must be taking the piss, boy!” she laughed.

“I'm not...I do love me a mature lady with such an...ample bosom and uh...such a beauteous face.”

“Huh?”

“Has nobody told you this, my lovely one?” he continued.

“No...never.”

Glenn felt sorry for the woman then and all in all, she had a pretty face and a lovely smile, so he approached her and reminded himself that this was for Daryl.

“Someone should have then...how's about you take me somewhere quiet for a moment?” he suggested, hoping Maggie was listening and would grab the letters as soon as he was out of sight.

“You won't speak of it to anyone?” Agatha asked.

“Of course not. Come along, kitten,” he grinned.

Glenn blundered through the seduction, and soon the woman was dragging him into a broom closet not five feet away.

The woman molested him till his head was spinning, and his lips were raw before he escaped and found Maggie in the corridor laughing herself silly.

“Tell me you have the letters!” he pleaded.

“Right here,” she smiled handing them over. “Did you have fun in there?”

“She showed me a thing or two. A mature woman with strong hands isn't half bad actually," he laughed.

"Come along, you goof," Maggie sighed, rolling her eyes.

Glenn could tell she got a kick out of the situation; he liked a girl with a good sense of humor.

With the letters back in their possession, they had what they needed to stop Daryl from making the biggest mistake of his life. They both ran down the stone corridors toward the garden and prayed they would get there in time.

 


	18. Betrayal of the Heart

_ **The Archer & The Widow - Chapter 18** _

_ **~ Betrayal of the Heart** _

Daryl liked the king and prayed for the letters to turn up; he didn't want to harm him, even if it was for Carol. They walked through the garden after eating, and Daryl suspected that Glenn was seeking the letters in the castle, he wasn't sick at all.

“What do you intend to do with your winnings, young man?” King Byron asked as he stopped along the way to pull a few weeds.

It surprised Daryl to see a man of the king's standing in the world doing something so pedestrian; perhaps he was still an ordinary man at heart.

“All I want is to free my love from the servitude of Lord Phillip.”

Daryl saw no reason to play around; he was going to be honest because that's the kind of man he really was. Everyone around him was free to be backbiting, greedy and dishonest but he had his own code to live by, and he would follow it until the day he died.

“She must be very special,” King Byron noted, still tending to the plants casually.

“I love her more than life itself, but she is not free to be mine.”

“And she loves you in return, I presume?”

“Yes. I am a lucky man...I'll love her always, even if she can never be with me.”

“Love such as this is rare, young man. I had a love like that once.”

Daryl watched as his face grew solemn with memory.

“The love of a good woman is all a man really needs in this world...I'm not too grand to admit that losing my dear Elizabeth broke me.”

Daryl had no idea why a man like him was confiding so much with a mere commoner, but he understood every word he said. If Daryl couldn't get Carol back, he would be broken as well.

“Your wife has passed? I'm sorry, I am not from here, so I'm not aware.”

“Yes, it was years ago now, and yet it's no easier. You're Irish, I hear it in your accent. What brings you to England?”

“I came for a change of scenery, I suppose. I am most at home in the woods, and then I realized that in order to find a wife I'd need to settle in a village and find work, hence my job as fletcher with Glenn.”

“This woman you love is indentured to serve in my brother's home then?”

“Yes, and I hope to pay him the money her dead husband owed to free her. It's 30 pieces of silver, but I'd give up the entire sum I was awarded just to have her hand, money means nothing to me.”

Daryl knew that he couldn't kill this man, he was honorable and good. It killed him to know that he was relying on paper as his only means for a satisfactory ending but it was what it was.

“That's an unusual statement from someone of your age. My brother is quite concerned with money, and yet he already has more than he could ever rightfully need.”

This was an opening, but Daryl still felt he had to tread carefully.

“If you don't mind my saying so...you are very different from your brother.”

“He is filled with a great need for power, dominance, and money; he was always that way,” King Byron sighed.

“You are a good man, Your Majesty,” Daryl said, bowing his head to him as he spotted Glenn walking toward them with the letters in his hand. “I pray that you will take what I'm about to show you in the intended spirit. I am loyal to you, Your Majesty, and I only have your rightful reign and safety in mind.”

King Byron looked at him with great concern and perplexity.

“What is it?” he asked.

Glenn announced his presence behind the king and begged his pardon in order to hand Daryl the letters.

“Of course...what is all this about?”

“Your Majesty, these letters were found in the possession of your brother. See for yourself.”

Daryl decided not to speak about the contents and just to let the king decide for himself what he felt about it without his input.

King Byron took the papers and paced slowly back and forth across the garden path as he read them.

“This cannot be true,” the king uttered, shaking his head in disbelief and Daryl's heart sank.

Visions of being charged with treason and being hanged flew through his mind as his heart raced. Somehow the king didn't believe it, and he'd be accused of forgery or something equally ridiculous.

“Your Majesty-”

“Where did you find these?” the king demanded.

“They were found among your brother's office papers by a servant in his home.

Daryl did not want to bring Carol into it by name until he knew it wasn't dangerous to do so.

“Your love, no doubt,” the king replied.

“I...they are genuine documents, Your Majesty. I am not lying to you. I can understand how hard it must be to read such a thing.”

“I don't want to believe my brother would do this, but I'd recognize his writing anywhere,” he sighed.

Daryl looked to Glenn, and his eyes showed the fear of what was to come next.

“This is the worst kind of betrayal,” King Byron continued. “My brother could have betrayed me for money, steal a woman from me....really anything at all and I'd forgive it. But this is a betrayal of the heart...my own brother wishes me dead.”

“I needed to tell you this, even though it's terrible news. This kingdom needs a leader like you and not your brother.”

King Byron said he needed time to think on what had happened and to seek the word of his advisers.

“I'd like you both to stay the night. I must think on this, and I may need you when I reach my decision on how to deal with this matter.”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Glenn bowed and Daryl followed suit.

“Anything you ask, Your Majesty,” Daryl added.

This man had the power to have them both hanged, and Daryl planned to stay on his good side, even if he didn't believe he was the type to send someone like him to meet the executioner.

“Daryl...thank you for bringing this to my attention, your honesty will not be forgotten.”

“I am your loyal subject, Your Majesty. I am not an Englishman, but I serve you, and only you.”

King Byron smiled down at his bowing head.

“You were sent here to kill me, weren't you?”

“Yes, but I would never have done it. I only wanted to show you the letters. If I hadn't done it, I'm sure Lord Phillip would have found someone else...and with the letters, you now know of the intention.”

“So I don't need to worry about you sleeping under the same roof?” King Byron joked.

“Never, Your Majesty.”

“You can laugh, boy, I only jest.”

Daryl and Glenn both chuckled nervously and were sent back with Withers to guest rooms to spend the afternoon.

“You'll be called in a few hours for dinner,” Withers informed them as he closed the door to the guest quarters.

“That went better than expected,” Daryl sighed with heavy relief.

“We aren't in a pit awaiting the hangman! It's a fine day!” Glenn laughed.

“So you found Maggie I take it,” Daryl began, flopping down on a huge mattress with fine silk sheets.

“Indeed, and I also found a grabby laundress who handled my goods in a broom closet,” he chuckled.

“Do I want to know the rest of this story?” Daryl asked.

“I don't think so. If we're staying the night I just might make it my business to find Maggie again,” he winked.

“Go for it, my friend, but stay out of trouble and be discreet.”

“Of course,” Glenn insisted with a sly grin.

“Carol might actually be freed now, it sounds promising does it not?” Daryl smiled.

“He believes you, so that's the first step, and you told him about you and Carol?”

“I did, and he seemed sympathetic to it. He lost his own wife, so perhaps he'll understand what she means to me and help me out.”

“I think he's deciding whether or not to have his own brother killed off at the moment,” Glenn shrugged.

“I suppose that will be the first thing on his mind,” Daryl agreed.

Daryl lay back for a time to ponder what the next day or two would bring. He imagined freeing Carol from her prison, taking her in his arms and just holding her again. He wanted to tell her she was free and that they'd be married as soon as possible. Carol was his beautiful maiden from the river with sweet, berry stained fingers and nobody else would ever do. Nothing would ever hold a candle to the sight of her pale, nude body in the moonlight and he longed for her like air to a drowning man.

 

 

 


	19. Under a Weeping Willow

_ **The Archer & The Widow - Chapter 19** _

_ **~ Under a Weeping Willow** _

Daryl and Glenn were called to dinner where King Byron was cordial and friendly but did not discuss his plans in detail. The royal band played as they ate and it was pleasant, but all Daryl could think of was getting back to his woman.

“In the morning we will begin, do not panic young friend,” he assured Daryl before everyone retired to their own quarters for the evening.

“We must be fast, my woman is being held captive,” Daryl pleaded.

“Fear not, young man, all will be well. These things take time to arrange, but there is a plan.”

King Byron seemed to know something he didn't so he left it alone; it wasn't wise to argue too much with a king even if he was a kind man.

/

Back in their guest chamber, Daryl expressed his impatience at full volume.

“What is he waiting for?” Daryl growled. “Why would he not just set his men upon his brother and toss him in jail for treason?”

“It probably takes time to gather all the men and give them orders, Daryl.”

Glenn was trying to calm him down and understood his anxiety, but there was nothing they could do at the moment.

Daryl paced around the room rambling about Carol and panicking until Glenn had enough and began pushing the mead on him. Daryl hardly noticed what he was drinking, but within the hour he was finally sitting and calmer.

“You went and got me slushed,” he sighed, looking over at Glenn with frustration.

“You were driving me mad. Carol is safe as she can be at the moment, and we cannot do anything until morning, so why not just rest, my friend?”

“I'm worried.”

“I know, but we are at a standstill.”

“You just want to go and visit that handmaiden, don't you?” Daryl slurred.

“I wouldn't mind,” Glenn confessed. “Will you be alright for a bit?”

“I'm turning in; I can hardly see straight.”

“Be well. I'll be back before you know it.”

“Uh huh.”

/

Glenn walked the huge stone corridors of the castle toward the west wing hoping to find the woman who had helped them so much.

He found a woman shining silver dinnerware at a table and asked her where he could find Maggie.

“She'll be down the hall, third door on the right.”

“Thank you, Miss.”

“Don't let the mistress in charge see you...she's in the room that's fourth to the right.”

“Thank you.”

His heart raced, and he hoped to take her somewhere to be alone, even if just for a moment.

All of Daryl's talk about Carol had left him wondering if a love existed for him like that. Maggie had a good position working for the king, but just maybe she'd spend some time with him and let him plead a case.

He knocked softly on the door, and it was answered by a younger blonde girl who asked who he was and what he wanted.

“May I speak to Maggie? I'm...a friend.”

The girl looked at him skeptically for a moment and then was nudged out of the way by Maggie herself.

“Glenn!”

“Would you like to go for a little walk?”

“I suppose I could...if we're quiet getting out,” she winked.

/

Out in the garden at night, Glenn watched her hair move as she spoke and felt his heart race for her. She had a smile that made him feel important and like anything was possible.

She told him how she and her sister had been blessed to come and work for the king after their father and mother passed away. It wasn't uncommon to have loved ones who had gone to heaven, life was hard, and nobody lived much beyond 40 if they were lucky.

“How is your friend doing this eve?” she asked as they approached the royal pond with fish ambling just below the lily pads and water lilies adorning the surface.

“He is heartsick, but he is hanging in there. His woman is a servant to Lord Phillip, and the situation is ugly,” he sighed.

“He cannot be with her? That's terrible,” she frowned.

“It may work out yet, but there needs to be an intervention...it's a long story.”

“Save it then, it's such a beautiful evening, and I am just happy you came to find me.”

“You are?” he smiled.

“I get lonely...I am treated well here, but I do long for company.”

“I had to come and thank you for what you did for my friend and me. You retrieving those letters may just be what helps him get back to his love.”

“He loves her very intensely then I take it,” Maggie mused, looking up at the stars wistfully.

“Daryl's love for Carol has inspired me of late, made me want to seek out that kind of love for myself. It was so hopeless between them and yet he pushed for it with all he had and continues to still.”

“It's all very romantic, isn't it?” she smiled.

“I hope you don't mind my saying this but...you look angelic tonight in the moonlight, it's breathtaking.”

Maggie looked deep into his eyes, and everything inside him burned for her.

“What will Agatha say if I take you away?” she said softly in a teasing tone.

“I think she'll manage.”

Closer and closer Glenn moved toward the light emanating from her eyes and the glow of her creamy skin.

She said nothing, and soon they were kissing passionately as she urged him a few feet away and under the drooping branches of a weeping willow.

“Nobody will see us here,” she insisted between hot kisses and grabbing at his clothing.

There was no time to lose, and he had nothing left to say. Everything else Glenn wanted her to know, he'd show her with his body.

She lay back, and her auburn hair spilled upon the clover beneath her, taking his breath away.

Glenn wrestled his hand up under her many skirts and slips to touch her waist and then drew her stockings down her legs as she giggled.

He groaned at the feel of her silky smooth thigh against the palm of his hand and bit at her throat wildly. Maggie was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen and touched; thinking straight was hard when he was inches from possessing her.

When the stockings were discarded, he lifted her dress to get underneath.

“My god, Glenn! What are you up to?” she squealed.

“You'll like it...I promise,” he winked before disappearing under the material.

A deep, pleasure-filled moan escaped her mouth as soon as he began to tease her where nobody had before.

She gasped and writhed on the clover, looking up at the moon through the drooping branches of the weeping willow.

“You are....the devil,” she sobbed as it rose up inside of her.

Glenn just continued to roll his tongue from side to side, and front to back in waves that made her fall apart entirely.

“Oh for heaven's sake,” she whimpered, and he clutched her hips and drank of her womanhood. “Take me now...please take me.”

Glenn pulled his head out from under the skirts and winked at her as he wiped his mouth on his sleeve.

“You're wanting more then?”

“Hush now...give me all you possess,” she growled hungrily.

Glenn wrestled with his belt, and within a heartbeat he was inside her, fucking her with all that he could.

She cried out into the night and pulled his mouth to hers, kissing him hard and panting like she was in heat.

“Never stop,” she pleaded, and Glenn never wanted to.

Maggie was beautiful, full of fire, kind and sweet...just the kind of woman he could see himself marrying.

He felt like he was racing the clock and also that fucking a handmaiden in the garden could get them both in trouble, not to mention Daryl. The urgency to finish hung over his head like a cloud, and he fucked her with abandon, making her moan and whine even louder.

“Shhh....quiet, love, lest they should find us.”

“I can't help it...you make me....oh God!”

He drove into her hard and fast, breaking the levy and bringing the interlude to an end.

/

“I'll never see you again, will I?” she said as she pulled up her stockings.

“If you want me, then come back with me to my village. I'll marry you if you want to be the wife of a fletcher.”

“You will?”

“Of course...I didn't know a woman was out there who'd make me feel this way. You are the one I want, Maggie.”

“MAGGIE!”

There came across the garden the sound of the head mistress bellowing for her, and she had no choice but to return.

“Come find me before you go, and I will come with you...may I bring my sister? I cannot leave her.”

Glenn had no idea if he could support a woman and her sister, but they were obviously a package deal.

“I am not a rich man, but I will see to it that you are both safe, fed and warm.”

“Then I am yours, Glenn.”

 

 

 


	20. You May Even Find That You Like It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My husband is leaving tomorrow for 5 months so I am messed up and blubbering on and off all the time:(   
> If the editing or the ending of this story is not my absolute best, I apologize. I love writing this story and I am determined to make it good:) I'm just emotionally fragile so I'm doubting myself a lot at the moment.   
> Love ya! Thanks for reading:) xoxo

_ **The Archer & The Widow - Chapter 20** _

_ **~ You May Even Find That You Like It** _

Carol was hungry, but denying the food brought to her by Phillip was the only power she had left.

“You'd sooner die than live here with me?” he asked when her refusal began to injure his precious pride.

“I do not want to be ruled by any man; it's not only you.”

“You seem to be under the misapprehension that any woman is truly free, Carol. You should understand the way the world operates by now; you were married once.”

“Please, just leave me be,” she sighed.

In truth, Carol was just too fatigued from hunger to argue.

“By tonight, you will see what the future holds for you. If you'd just relent, you may even find that you like it.”

“Like what?” she asked, but she was afraid to hear the answer.

“I have decided that rather than sending you to hard labor, you will be my wife come this eve. I have had enough of trying to be fair with you, and I have lost faith in your precious archer. The priest will be here by nightfall, and there is nothing you can say to change it.”

Carol could hardly believe it was ending this way. Daryl was meant to be her husband, it was written in the very stars. As hopeless as it looked, part of her still believed that he'd come through. It was impossible for Carol to comprehend that she had met and fallen so deeply in love with Daryl for it to end this way.

“How could you?” she wept. “How could you do such a thing?”

“You'll come to love me in time...Mary did.”

Carol raged inside and vowed that she'd sooner die than be Lord Phillip's wife.

“Eat your food; you'll need your energy for tonight. Get the idea of that common archer out of your pretty little head, Carol, it's over.”

Carol was ill with panic and had no idea how to stop the things that were happening to her; she needed a hero.

/

King Byron gathered the men he had ordered to execute his plan as well as Daryl and Glenn. It was early morning when they met in the king's personal chambers for privacy; Daryl couldn't wait to get started.

“You will all travel to the manor of my brother, Lord Phillip, and you will take him into custody. You will retrieve the maiden...Daryl, what is the name of this woman?”

“Carol.”

“You will rescue the maiden named Carol, and Lord Phillip will be brought back to my dungeon where I will think on his punishment....do try to bring him back alive if you are able, though.”

“And what if we cannot?” asked one of his men.

“If you cannot then you cannot, but please do try. He is still my brother.”

The king gave them maps of the grounds and manor, provided them all with weaponry and armor, and they were sent on their way with the rising of the morning sun.

Dale was instructed to take the horse and carriage back to the village and await word that the task had been completed before returning to the manor. Daryl and Glenn were provided with the finest horses and kitted out with armor and swords, although Daryl knew he'd likely do his fighting with his bow.

“I must speak with Maggie before I leave,” Glenn informed Daryl.

“Fine, but hurry.”

Glenn found Maggie lingering around the garden and told her that she and her sister were welcome to ride back with Dale.

“You know I don't have much to offer you, Maggie. I have nothing like what you have here, but I do love you, and you'll never do without the necessities.”

“I want you, Glenn. A life with you is all I want.”

“I hope it will be enough, love.”

“It will,” she insisted, and she kissed him goodbye.

The ride back was thick with anticipation and Daryl couldn't believe the lengths he had to go to just for love. Still, nothing was out of the question when it came to Carol; he loved her with every cell of his being.

The leader of the king's men was a hulking figure named Abraham, and he looked like nothing in the world could stop him.

“We will get this woman back, and this treacherous cad will pay dearly for what he attempted to do to his royal majesty!” Abraham boomed as he rode ahead of the men behind him. “We should be there before evening falls.”

“What if he fights back?” Daryl asked him when he rode up along side him an hour later.

“Phillip is no match for my men. We are not in this for defeat; this woman is as good as saved,” he boasted.

Until Carol was back in his arms, Daryl couldn't relax, but it was still good to hear the confidence in Abraham's voice.

/

They rode up to the manor as the sky was growing darker, the journey had been exhausting.

Shane saw them coming and ran out to Daryl to get word about the king's soldiers and what they were doing there.

“Take all the staff and go into the woods until all is quiet. We are here for Carol and to take Lord Phillip in for treason against the king,” Daryl swiftly informed him.

“Good God!” Shane exclaimed. “Let me fight with you.”

“You need to get people out of here. Hurry, man,” Daryl insisted, and Shane ran away to get Lori.

“We will storm the door, remember that we are here to bring this woman out alive so use some tact with Phillip, he may be agitated and who knows what he might do.”

Daryl's nerves were shot, but he followed along because this was the best course of action they had. Abraham sounded so certain.

/

“Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold, in sickness and health, forsaking all others for as long as you both shall live?”

Carol was stood in the main dining hall next to Phillip clutching a make-shift bouquet of posies and weeping. Phillip had sworn to have Daryl killed if she didn't comply and she saw no way out anymore.

“I will,” she answered.

The words burned on her tongue, and she couldn't hold back the tears from falling steadily down her cheeks. The priest was also under duress, and nothing about it could be seen as anything but a nightmare.

Phillip handed her Mary's ring, and she cringed as he placed it on her finger.

_Where was Daryl? What was happening to her life?_

“I now pronounce that before the Lord, and with the blessing of this kingdom, you are man and wife. In the name of the father, and of the son, and the holy ghost.”

Phillip was beaming as if she was actually his willing bride and pulled her close to kiss her; she had no option but to comply.

“Be off with you now, Father,” he grinned. “My man, Shane, will see that you are returned to the church.”

“Yes, my Lord,” the priest nodded.

Phillip walked her, arm in arm, to his bedroom and Carol shook like a leaf as she prayed for escape or even death.

Carol was urged toward the bed and began to crack from the fear and desperation.

“Please...can't this wait...perhaps another night.”

“You won't make me wait anymore, Carol. I'm going to have my way, and you'll get it through your head one way or another that you hold no power in this relationship. You are a commoner who should be so lucky to even dwell in this house!”

He was beginning to raise his voice in frustration, and she knew he'd become violent if she pushed him anymore. This was a new side of Phillip, who once tried to seduce her gently and called her pet names. This new Phillip was unknown and scary to her.

He pushed her down on the bed and crawled over her, grabbing at her legs and hiking up her dress.

She struggled enough to slow him down but was afraid to thrash around too much; Carol was sure he'd smack her for that.

/

There came a great crash suddenly as Phillip was tearing at her stockings and growling above her. The sound made her scream, and her entire body became stiff with fear. The thundering echo of many pairs of boots ascending the staircase made her wonder who had come and if they were there to help. Phillip jumped up, buttoning his trousers and heading to the door.

“Who is blue blazes is this?” he shouted.

The door was thrown open, and Carol watched in amazement as the king's men flooded the room. There was hollering and commotion, and before she could move Phillip grabbed her by the throat.

“Get out!” he screamed, and he dragged her off the bed and into his arms.

Daryl appeared in the doorway then, and Carol's heart sank to the bottom of her chest.

Phillip pulled a blade from his belt and held it to her throat, and she closed her eyes in fear. Carol wondered if this is the last time she would see the face of her one true love.

  
  


 

  
  


 


	21. I Swear to God, I Never Will

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a shorter chapter cause I wanted it to be all action and no filler:)  
> There are 2-3 more chapters left:) Thanks for reading! xoxo

_ **The Archer & The Widow - Chapter 21** _

_ **~ I Swear to God, I Never Will** _

“You!” Phillip growled in Daryl's direction. “You really think I'll let a nobody like you take her from me? She'll be mine, or she'll belong to nobody!”

The king's men were forced to take a step back as Phillip walked passed them and toward the door.

“Back up, or I'll paint the walls with her blood!” Phillip screamed. “None of you is fit to lick my boots, never mind take a woman from me! She is my wife!”

The man had come unhinged, and no words were going to reach him.

Daryl heard the word wife, and his mind only saw red; it had to be just thoughtless words, surely she wasn't married to this monster.

Phillip dragged her down the stairs, and Daryl knew he was going to leave with her; he couldn't allow her to be taken without a fight. If Phillip got her away from the manor in his unstable state, it was anyone's guess if she'd even be seen alive again.

Before anyone could figure out a plan, Phillip was out the door and mounting his carriage with Carol in the back. Daryl could see the fear in her eyes as the carriage began to pull away from the manor.

“Daryl!” she sobbed.

“I'm coming!” he hollered after her. “We have to follow them!” he added, turning to Glenn.

“She'll be lucky to make it out of this in one piece,” Abraham winced.

“So much for 'as good as saved,'” Daryl grumbled. “Glenn and I are going; you can follow if you like!”

Daryl mounted the king's horse as Glenn followed closely behind.

“You can shoot from horseback, remember?” Glenn encouraged him.

“I'd be lucky not to take her head off instead!” Daryl shouted with his voice full of doubt.

Everything was moving so fast, and there was so much at stake. Daryl had never before faced the kind of pressure that he had in the past few weeks; his whole life had turned upside down since he met Carol by the river.

“You'd never hit her in a hundred years, my friend! You are so much better than you even know!” Glenn insisted. “She is yours, is she not?”

“Yes.”

“Then go get her. I will be right at your side.”

They continued at full clip until they came upon the dust cloud behind Phillip's horse and carriage.

“I can't!” Daryl shouted back to Glenn as he pulled his longbow from over his shoulder.

“God damn it, Daryl! All I've heard about is this woman since you lay eyes on her. She is yours, and you can do this, now drop that bastard cold right this second!”

Daryl leaned back in the saddle and wrapped the reins around his forearm the way Glenn had instructed him to during the competition. He looked up to see Carol's eyes focused on his and nothing else mattered but her.

The road was rough and wound through the trees, twisting and turning all at such speed that it made the task appear impossible.

Abraham and a few of his men followed behind but seemed to be falling back to simply observe which annoyed Daryl; Carol needed everyone to pull out their hero card.

Daryl took a final deep breath, raised the bow, pulled an arrow from his quiver and drew it back.

Everything in his life relied on this one shot. His eyes trained on Phillip's back and he noticed that Carol ducked down low in the carriage; she evidently knew what the plan was.

He hesitated for a moment, afraid to even imagine failure until he heard her voice in his mind.

_**I believe in you, Daryl. I know you can do this...** _

Daryl could feel her in his arms then, and as he fired off the arrow into oblivion, he knew that it was going to be alright.

Phillip was struck in the back, flopped to the side with a groan of surprise and defeat, letting go of the reins as he did. It was then that Daryl realized that Carol was still in grave danger.

Phillip fell from the seat of the wagon straight to the ground, dead as a door nail, and Carol screamed bloody murder.

She tried to crawl to the seat to gain control of the two mighty stallions who were now losing all sense of direction. With nobody at the helm, as it were, the horses became panicked, and the carriage bounced along the road wildly.

Glenn dug his heels into the sides of his horse to spur it on and flew ahead of Daryl like a white hot streak of lightning, and when he reached the side of the carriage, he swung his leg over and jumped onto it next to Carol.

“Holy hell, Glenn!” Daryl hollered in disbelief.

Glenn stunned both Carol and Daryl by making his way to the seat of the carriage and wrangling the horses within a minute or two, bringing them back down to a steady trot.

When everything finally slowed to a stop, Daryl felt complete and utter exhaustion and relief.

“Carol!” he exclaimed as he dismounted the horse and ran for the carriage.

“Daryl!” she wept, falling into his arms as soon as her feet touched the ground. “I knew you could do it...you saved me.”

She sobbed into his chest, and her legs trembled from exertion, fear, and hunger.

“I love you, Daryl...just hold me and don't ever let me go.”

“I never will,” he vowed. “I swear to God, I never will.”

 

  
  


 


	22. It Can All Be Ours, Lass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting the final chapter to this right away and it's an epilogue chapter so it will seem a little jarring at first. I am seriously considering a sequel to this if there is any interest to tell the story of where Daryl and Carol end up and all the details of their life together. It felt like the continuation of the Daryl and Carol story after this point was a separate piece so I would rather start a sequel instead of making this story really long. I don't like to continue with a story after the main conflict is resolved, my brain just doesn't work that way. I am more than willing to tell more of this story if people are interested so let me know:)  
> I'm posting another story in a week that will be a crossover piece involving the Dixon brothers and Lisbeth Salander from The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. It's my first crossover piece and it's going to be pretty explicit and experimental so I hope it goes over well. I've been working on it on and off for months so I feel the need to pull the trigger on it finally. lol  
> Thanks for reading, I really appreciate every one of you so much:)  
> Teagan xoxo

_ **The Archer & The Widow - Chapter 22** _

_ **~ It Can All Be Ours, Lass** _

Daryl watched as Carol sat in the kitchen of Lord Phillip's manor and shoveled food into her mouth.

Lori came and wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and kissed her cheek.

“You're still trembling, Carol,” she sighed, pulling her close.

“I let myself get so hungry,” she answered between mouthfuls of stew.

“Why?” Daryl asked.

Carol looked over at him for a moment and shrugged her shoulders.

“Not eating was the only power I had, the only choice I was able to make.”

It was late, and the king's men were retired to the inside of the manor for the night before returning to the castle in the morning. Abraham said he'd explain what happened to the king and send word back with a messenger about the king's response. The king's men would be returning Phillip's remains to the castle with them as well.

Dale had returned by this time and sat with Daryl, Carol, Shane, Lori and Glenn in the servant's quarters as everything was calming down. Maggie and her sister Beth were back at the fletcher's cabin where Glenn was planning to go for the night at any moment.

“So the king believed you about the letters and the plot,” Carol smiled when she was finished her second bowl of Lori's best stew.

“It wasn't without its troubles...but it's done now,” Daryl smiled. “All I know is that nothing would have worked out if not for Glenn.”

Daryl turned to him and pulled him in for a bear hug that eclipsed the smaller man.

“You are my friend, Daryl. Friendship is something I take seriously,” Glenn insisted.

“Bless you, Glenn,” Carol said when Daryl finally released him. “I owe you everything. I cannot even begin to repay you.”

“Think nothing of it; it was simply the right thing to do.”

Dale stood in the corner watching the scene with Shane and sighed at everything finally coming to a peaceful resolution.

“What will become of us now that the master is dead?” Shane asked.

“I'm sure it'll all pan out, son. Don't fret?”

“I do worry, though. Lori is carrying my child...we just discovered it recently, and I need to provide for her and the baby.”

“We'll think of something. You are my family, Shane, and I won't see you do without...I have some savings.”

“I couldn't-”

“Hush now, son. Just enjoy the evening and do not panic yourself.”

Shane nodded and let it go for the time being.

/

Carol warmed enough water to wash up and took Daryl back to her old quarters when everyone had turned in for the evening.

“I thought for a moment that I'd never see your perfect face again,” she whispered as she pulled him into her arms.

“This is true love, lass...only death could ever part us, and I had no plans to die.”

Carol turned for him to begin on the buttons, all those little buttons he never thought he'd touch again. Daryl leaned in to kiss the back of her neck, where her hairline ended and wrapped his arms around her waist.

“Now you can be mine if you still want it...it can all be ours, lass.”

Her head fell back onto his shoulder as the last buttons were reached and he began to slide the dress forward and down her arms.

“I couldn't want you more, Daryl. You are the man of my life, and I'll be yours till my last breath.”

Daryl bit the side of her throat as his hands pushed into her corset to claim her breasts.

“I want you pregnant,” he panted. “I want you big with my child...you are _my_ wife, you were _never_ his.”

He was so in love and so possessive of her that it was primal.

“Take me, Daryl...every inch of me is yours, and every inch of you is mine.”

He ripped at her clothing until she was bare from the waist up and grabbed the sea sponge from the steaming basin on the dresser.

Hot water was squeezed from the sponge down her back, and she groaned in ecstasy.

“Mmmmm.”

Daryl chased droplets of water down her back to her tailbone and licked all the way back up to her neck. His warm wet hands took her breasts, and she could feel his hard dick nudging against her ass cheek through her slip and underthings.

“Do you need my cock, lass? Tell me that you need me inside you.”

“I need it so bad, my man...fill me.”

Daryl grinned and spun her around in his arms then backed her up to the bed. Soon she was stripped, and her perfect curves glowed in the lantern light, golden and stunning to his eyes. Daryl shrugged his coat off his shoulders and unbuttoned his shirt to bear his chest to her, and she swooned at the sight of his strong body as he came closer. The freedom to make love indoors without the fear of being discovered was especially sweet. Carol wanted to be loud, to show him in every way how he satisfied her.

His lips met with every erogenous zone of her body, and he took none of her flesh for granted. Sucking slowly at her breasts and nipples, dragging his hot tongue dreamily across her abdomen, biting and licking at her thighs, he was going to enjoy it to the fullest.

“You saved me...in every way a woman can be saved.”

“You saved me as well, Carol...we are one soul.”

He was breathing so heavy and so hungry for her that he couldn't get into her fast enough. Still, he was determined to make her fall apart first.

Carol's arms were raised over her head, and he pushed her legs wide apart with his knees. She fell weak against the mattress and longed for more touch everywhere, more pressure of their body's becoming one.

He kissed her hard and sloppy before ducking lower to suck her nipples into his mouth and then tease his lips all over her breasts.

“Oh my God...oh heaven help me,” she whined.

“Nobody can help you now, lass. This cunt is all mine, and I'll treat it real nice,” he growled when he moved even lower to finish his task.

Carol saw stars as his tongue moved in rapturous waves over her lips; so smooth and so wet. She kept her arms raised, and he hiked her legs up and open to access every little inch of her sweet, wet, heavenly womanhood.

Back and forth, front to back and soft sucking drove her to the edge so soon that she was ready to jump.

Carol gasped as it peaked and called out his name into the flickering light.

“Daryl...oh my God, Daryl...yes!”

Her hips were grabbed tight, and he moved his mouth back and forth, milking every drop of climax from her flesh.

/

Sooner than he expected, she was up and on him and tearing his pants down his legs, begging for his cock.

“Do you long to be impaled?” he teased, grabbing his own dick and motioning for her to come closer.

“Not yet, love...I am eager to taste you.”

She instructed him to lay down and crawled over his thighs till her breasts were grazing his length seductively.

“Oh hell, woman...that's evil.”

Carol grinned and continued to drift her nipples over the head of his cock until he groaned in agony. He was taken then, deep into her mouth and sucked swiftly with absolute passion; it broke him into pieces. She worked her hand and mouth in unison; wet, warm and slippery.

“Get on me, woman! Come and ride this cock before you kill me!” he hissed.

Carol was over him, kissing him and sliding down his ample dick in only seconds and nothing ever beat that moment for Daryl. Getting back the woman of his dreams after nearly losing her to another man or even death was good enough, but having her riding him desperately the way she was couldn't be beaten.

Daryl sat up, cross-legged on the bed and wrapped her up in his embrace as she fucked him out of his mind and they were one person again. His mouth moved from her lips to her neck to her breasts, and his breath came in ragged gasps as he devoured her.

He took a handful of her hair and could feel his orgasm laying dormant no longer; the lion was awakened.

“I'm gonna fill you with it...you're gonna have my babies, Carol!” he stated as he fucked up into her and then rolled her onto her back.

“Fill me, my man...I want it all with you...”

“Oh Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!” he groaned when his body couldn't handle anymore.

He clung to her, trembling in her loving arms, as he released his seed within her.

/

Rain began to fall as she finished washing up and then crawled into bed next to him. Daryl ran his fingertips up and down her shoulder as the last light of the lantern flickered and then died.

“So you'll come live with me now?”

“Of course, love. My home is wherever you are.”

His hand moved over her belly, and he imagined the family he hoped they'd soon have. There was no time to waste now that he had found her. He wanted to see the faces of the children he already dreamed of.

“What do you think the king will do now?” she asked. “He won't be out for you, for killing his brother?”

“I don't believe so; he understands that Phillip was mad.”

“Where do you really want to live, Daryl?”

“How do you mean?”

“Do you want to live in the village, or do you want to live in the forest where you can be free?”

“A woman can't live in the woods with children...unless I were to build a cabin, and I already started the business with Glenn...”

“Well, leave all that for another night. Just rest, my love.”

“Good idea...” he yawned then and snuggled up closer to her. “...it can all be ours now, lass.”

In only ten minutes, Daryl was asleep in her arms, and Carol looked through the window of her quarters at the moon and smiled. She was finally free and had the one thing she wanted in the whole world snoring gently against her breast. Carol hadn't known such peace since her mother was alive and knew that the days to come would bring the joy in life that she was owed.

Struggles had followed her all of her days but now would come the season in her life of sweet fulfillment and love.

 

  
  


 


	23. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter came to me about half way through writing this story and I liked the idea of it:)  
> Let me know if a sequel to the rest of Daryl and Carol's story is of any interest. Super long stories that go on forever needlessly are not my thing, but I'd be happy to try writing a sequel separate from this at some point.  
> Thanks for reading:)  
> Teagan xoxo  
> *Epitaph was written by Richard Crashaw (edited down for length)

_ **The Archer and The Widow** _

_ **Epilogue** _

The car bumped along the cobblestone path in the middle of nowhere and Sophia could feel the excitement building. She and Carl had rented a little compact car in the nearest town, and he was trying his best to manage driving on the opposite side of the road. Everyone in Ireland drove faster than in the US, and the roads were also incredibly narrow. A few times Sophia had squealed in fear thinking they were about to hit an oncoming car. Carl eyed the GPS on the dash and made a sharp right turn through a narrow road lined with trees; they were close now.

"I think it's just up ahead," he smiled over at her. 

"I can't believe it, I'm finally going to see it with my own eyes," Sophia sighed. 

They had journeyed from the US to explore Europe together as a college graduation gift from her parents, and she decided she needed to see the headstone for herself. Sophia loved genealogy, and ever since she had inherited Carol Dixon's diary from her grandmother, she knew she had to pay her respects. The love story of her long dead relative had captured her heart, and she'd been completely obsessed with it for over a year. Carol Dixon had penned the diary as an older woman, and the story of how Daryl and Glenn had saved her from Lord Phillip was the kind of tale that Sophia thought would make an excellent movie. The way Carol and Daryl had fallen in love by chance after meeting in the woods reminded her of meeting Carl by the creek in grade nine and just knowing that he was the one immediately. 

She opened the ancient leather bound book in her lap and ran her hands over the words before her, the last words in the diary.

  


_**I had to write this down, the entire story from beginning to end. I need it to be known that a common archer from Ireland saved not only me but also the king of England himself. I need it to be known that our love was like no other, that we would have died for one another in a heartbeat, and that we felt that way until the end.** _

_**Daryl Dixon was the finest archer of his time, a hero with the purest heart, my only true love, and the father of our beautiful children. Long may he be remembered, for there will never be another like him.**_

_**Carol Dixon 1790** _

  


Sophia wondered if she and Carl would feel the way they did forever. Their love was passionate and strong, but they were young and had no idea how life would pan out. Carl pulled up at the edge of the iron gate to the ancient cemetery and got out to open her door for her. 

"Are you ready, lass?" he asked. 

Carl had picked up the local lingo and had taken to calling her lass to make her giggle.

"I'm ready."

After a half hour of searching and struggling to read old headstones, they found the one they were seeking. Sophia stood before the headstone of her long deceased relatives and felt a connection to them immediately. They were still together, immortalized with words so fitting they brought tears to her eyes. 

  
_Here lie_

_Daryl and Carol Dixon_

_To these whom death again did wed_

_This grave's the second marriage-bed._

_Peace, good reader, do not weep;_

_Peace, the lovers are asleep._

_Let them sleep, let them sleep on,_

_Till the stormy night be gone,_

_And the eternal morrow dawn;_

_Then the curtains will be drawn,_

_And they wake into a light_

_Whose day shall never die in night._

  
"Thanks for coming with me," Sophia said, taking his hand in hers and smiling down at the words on the stone.

"I wanna go with you everywhere, Sophia...always."

"Maybe there's something to this whole true love thing," she sighed.

"I think so...would it be in really poor taste if I proposed to you in a cemetery?"

"Huh?"

Sophia looked up into his eyes and was certain she must have heard him wrong.

"You've been reading this diary to me every night while we've been traveling and it got me thinking about life, and about us. I don't want to wait anymore; I want to make you mine for the rest of my life if you'll have me."

Carl pulled a simple silver Claddagh ring from his pocket and knelt down to offer it to her.

"I'll buy you a better ring when we get home, but I noticed you looking at this in Belfast...will you marry me, Sophia?"

"Of course I will," she sobbed, dropping to her knees to pull him into her arms. "You know I will."

"I'll make you happy, lass, I swear," he joked.

"You always do. I love you, Carl."

"I love you too, Sophia, always."

_**~The End~** _

 

 


End file.
